Fallout: Called to Rise Again
by andyg590
Summary: "Nothing that was worthy in the past departs; no truth or goodness realized by man ever dies, or can die" -Thomas Carlyle
1. Chapter 1: I'm coming home?

**Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story of any significant size. I already have some of it written, but I was kind of on the fence about publishing it. With that being said, I do not own any rights to Fallout or any of the characters, etc. If I did, I would be taking a bath in a tub full of money. I have included my character's bio before the story begins. Honestly, I couldn't find a good way to incorporate them into the actual story. With that being said, please enjoy, and reviews are always welcome.**

Character Bio:

Name: Mark Franklin

Physical Description: Caucasian, 6' 2", 225 lbs. Shaggy brown hair, goatee, Blue eyes

Armor & Weapons: Green Ranger Combat Armor, 10 mm pistol, Assault Rifle

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"Mark, you're a hero…and you have to leave." Mark stood there in silence, dumbfounded. Of all the things he expected Amata to say to him, this was probably at the bottom of the list. Here he was, standing in his dad's old clinic in Vault 101, surrounded by all of his old classmates. The clinic was a lot dirtier than he remembered. There were mattresses and food wrappers all over the floor. The "rebels," as they had been dubbed, had been holed up here for at least a month, if not more, in a standoff with the Overseer over wanting to at minimum to explore the possibility of opening the vault to outside trade. Mark had just had a nice chat with Alphonse Almodovar, the Overseer, and Amata's father, about how the vault would not survive if they did not open up. Eventually, there would not be enough viable DNA to continue repopulating. As a result, Alphonse had just appointed Amata as Overseer.

Now, the girl that was his only friend his own age in the vault, who had been his friend since before they could talk, was throwing him out. He heard her say these words, but it took a moment for his brain to register them. "What do you mean, I have to leave?" asked Mark, still somewhat in shock. "Look," said Amata, with a hint of pain in her voice, "I appreciate what you've done for me, and for all of us. Now that I'm Overseer, we can finally open the vault for trade. Unfortunately, there are still some people down here that blame you and your father for what happened when the both of you escaped. Believe me, I am not one of them. The vault is fractured right now, and I need to heal it. You being here isn't going to help." There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd. Wally Mack, a kid Mark despised for as long as he could remember, said, "You and your dad caused us nothing but trouble. You need to get the hell out and never come back!" Before anyone knew what happened, Mark had walked over to Wally, grabbed him by the throat with his right hand, lifted him up, and shoved him against the wall. Jaws dropped around the room. Mark wouldn't have been able to do that before he left the Vault. Amata caught herself staring at Mark's muscular arms and blushed. Luckily, attention was diverted away from her. 'Dammit,' she thought, 'now is not the time to be acting like a horny schoolgirl.'

Mark had Wally pinned up against the wall, and Wally's face was bulging slightly as he tried unsuccessfully to break Mark's grip. Mark got mere inches from Wally's face, and Mark's face was red with anger. "Listen, you little piece of crap, you do not insult my father. My father was a great and honorable man, and has done things you couldn't possibly be able to comprehend. You and your father have no goddamn honor. Kissing up to the overseer every chance he got. I could snap your neck right now without breaking a sweat. Hell, I could-." "Mark!" He turned around and looked at Amata. She had her arms crossed and she looked angry. "Let him go." Mark looked at Wally for a few seconds, and then let him go. Wally dropped to the floor, breathing heavily, and looking at Mark with fear in his eyes. Mark turned away and walked over to Amata, grabbing his green duffel bag as he went. "Can I talk to you in private?" Mark said in a whisper to her. She nodded and followed Mark out of the room.

They came into a room that at one point was a classroom, but was now being used for storage. Mark turned the light on and closed the door. "You want to tell me what the point of that was Mark?" "There was no point. He's just an asshole. Trust me, I could've done much worse." "Whatever," said Amata. "You wanted to talk in private. What do you have to say?" Mark took a deep breath. "You called me here to help. I came, and I helped. Now you're kicking me out? Was this your plan the entire time? Hope that I would come back, talk some sense into your dad, you'd become the new Overseer, and then throw me out like some piece of trash? Tell me, was that it?" The entire time Mark was speaking, Amata looked at him with a straight face, but internally she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. "Do you think this is easy for me? Throwing someone out who's been a good friend to me for nearly twenty years? No, it isn't. I'm the Overseer now, and I need to do what's best for the vault."

"You know," said Mark, "if anyone else had called me, I would have just ignored it and left you guys to rot. Nearly everyone here treated me like crap for my entire life. But no, you called, and I came, because you were really my only friend down here." "Please, just listen-. " "No. I'm going to say what I need to say. Do you know what I've done out in the wastes? I nearly died so that the rest of the wasteland could have fresh water. I was in a coma for two weeks. My dad was killed by an egotistical prick from the Enclave, sacrificing himself to save me. I've hunted raiders and slavers into near extinction. I wiped the Enclave off the face of the earth. Super mutants, horrible abominations, don't exist anymore. The wastes are safer than they've ever been, and do you know why I did it? I did it all for **you.** It seems that none of that matters to you. You got what wanted. I thought one day, the vault could open to the rest of the world, and you could venture out without having to be afraid. I cared for you, and I thought maybe you felt the same way about me. It's clear to me now that I was wrong."

She closed her eyes, attempting to suppress the tears that were threatening to come out. "Please," she said, her voice wavering, "please leave. Don't make this any harder than it already is." Mark looked at her for a minute. "Fine, I'm leaving. I'm done with this place." Mark turned and started to walk out, when Amata said, "Mark, wait." He looked over his shoulder at her. "What?" "At least…at least let me walk you to the door." Mark looked at her for a couple of moments. "As you wish. I wouldn't expect you to leave a _foreigner_ to find his own way out, after all," Mark said, the sarcasm dripping off of his voice. They walked towards the entrance. As the passed by the clinic, Mark could feel the stares of everyone looking at them, but he didn't turn his head. They walked in silence for a few minutes, going through the maintenance section and finally reaching the door. "You know," said Amata, trying to add some levity to the situation, "this was a lot easier than the last time we had to do this, remember?" Mark's expression did not change as he looked at her. "Just open the damn door." She shook her head. "Fine," she said, walking over to the control panel, entering a code and pulling the lever. The alarm went off, and the door screeched open.

Once the door was open, Mark started to walk through. "Wait," said Amata, "you're not even gonna say goodbye? This could be the last time we could see each other for who knows how long." Mark stopped and turned around. Amata looked into his eyes, those electric blue eyes that she remembered being so full of life, and sometimes she got lost in, more often than she cared to admit. They were cold and dead, and his stare sent a chill up her spine. "No. I actually do have something else to say, though. Don't call me again. I'm not coming back if things don't turn out the way that you'd hoped. As far as I'm concerned, you and I, we're done." He waved his hands in front of his face. He then opened his bag, pulled out a book and tossed it on the ground near her feet. "That's all the help with the wasteland you'll be getting from me. Congratulations, Overseer. You deserve everything that's coming to you."

Mark turned and walked back down the tunnel that led outside, listening to the vault door close behind him. He stepped out into the night air, and looked over the desolate wasteland. He took the assault rifle off of his back and started firing into the sky until the clip was empty. He then threw down the gun and roared as loud as he could, the roar of someone in pain. Meanwhile, Amata just stared at the now-closed door for a couple of minutes. She realized that the book Mark had tossed was still at her feet. She picked it up and examined it. It had a dirty white cover and binding, and on the cover it read "Wasteland Survival Guide," and below that it read "Authored by Moira Brown and Researched by Mark Franklin." She held the book to her chest, and then as calmly as she could, she started walking and didn't stop until she reached her room. Once inside, she locked the door, put the book on her nightstand, and turned off the light. She then fell on her bed, and cried herself to sleep.

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 **I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. I always felt they could have done so much more with the "Trouble on the Homefront" quest, so I put a lot of thought into how I thought it could have gone down. Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, Mark's 10 mm pistol is the same one that Amata give you during the "Escape" quest. Until next time.**


	2. Chapter 2: Realizations

**Author's Note: Thank you to those that reviewed the first chapter. I'll admit, I got excited that someone other than me found the story interesting. As always, please enjoy and keep sending those reviews.**

(5 PM, Vault 101, one week later)

Amata was sitting in her office. That still sounded weird to her. The office that her father had occupied for as long as she could remember now belonged to her. She looked down at her desk. One of the first things that she discovered was that her father had no discernable filing system whatsoever. It seemed like he shoved papers wherever he pleased, with no idea on how he was going to find them again. She was now pouring over years of old scouts reports, disciplinary records, and all of the other assorted reports that accumulated over the years.

In the week following Mark coming back to end the standoff, she had all of the residents, including her father, clean the entire vault from top to bottom. She told the residents to think of it as a team-building exercise, which in a way, it was, but the vault had become absolutely filthy during the standoff. She was surprised that radroaches hadn't overrun them by now. She had also reorganized the security force, installing Herman Gomez as her Chief of Security. He was one of the few officers that actually did his job, instead of acting like her father's goons.

She had begun to read the book that Mark had left her, and some of the things written in there scared the crap out of her. It did, however, include a map of all of the major settlements, as well as areas to avoid. Hell, even Vault 101 was included, but it looked like it had been written in after the book had been printed, leading her to believe that this copy of the book, originally Mark's copy, was the only one that included the Vault's location. Whether he put it in because he had originally meant to give it to her and then forgot before she had stopped him before he left, or if he had put it in just as a reminder of home and gave it to her out of pity, she wasn't really sure. It wasn't like she could exactly ask him at the moment. Or ever, if he truly meant what he said.

She flipped through some old reports, not really looking at them, when something caught her eye. The top of the page was dated twenty years ago, which she found strange, since none of the other documents she had seen seemed to go back no further than six or seven years. The heading read "new arrivals." She put down the other papers and began to read:

" _A man and his infant son showed up at the entrance to the vault today. The man, who identified himself as James Franklin, was asking for sanctuary for him and his child. I had security keep him in the entrance hall while I came down to interrogate him. I asked him as to why I should let him in. He told me that his wife had just died and he was looking for a safe place to raise his son. He also told me that he was a doctor. Under normal circumstances, I would have sent him on his way. However, we needed a new physician since our old one died unexpectedly of a heart attack, and the person he was training was woefully inadequate. I agreed to let him in, under certain conditions. I let him know that I was in charge, and that my word was law. He was also told not to reveal any information about the outside world to anyone but myself. That included his son. His son is to be told that he was born in the vault, just like everyone else. I told him that if he did reveal any information, I would have him and his son thrown out. He did not like it, but he begrudgingly agreed. I must make sure to swear all of the other adults to secrecy."_

Amata finished reading it, put it down, and leaned back in her chair. It wasn't anything that she didn't already know. She had deduced the fact that neither James nor Mark were born in the vault from listening to the various reports on the radio, in addition to reading the terminal entries that James had left on the computer in the clinic. Mark had confirmed it when he had come back, prior to him talking to her father. Of course her father would cover that up. He didn't want illusions of his controlled world shattered.

Her thoughts drifted back to Mark, like they had so many times over the past week. Two things stuck out to her about their conversation. The first was when he asked her if she knew what he had done. During the first few days of the standoff, someone found an old radio that still worked. They tried to pick up any signals from the outside; they found Galaxy News Radio. The first report they ever heard from the outside world was how Mark had found a new satellite relay dish for the station. Everyone was shocked when they heard Mark's name. Every day, it seemed like Mark performed some amazing feat of heroism. Apparently, Mark had also been given a nickname: the "Lone Wanderer." Upon hearing that name, something began to bug Amata, so the first moment she had alone in James' office after hearing it, she analyzed each word of the name:

Lone: defined as lacking companions or companionship. Synonym: Alone

Wanderer: defined as a person who moves about without any destination; sometimes a person without a true home. Synonym: Vagabond

Taking those together, Mark was alone, moving around constantly whilst looking for his dad, and was without a true home. Sure, he had that house in Megaton, she later learned, but she believed that a home wasn't just a house. A home is a safe, comfortable place with people you care about in it. Alone in James' office, she put her head on the desk and groaned. That was the first of many times she had wondered if she should have accepted Mark's offer and gone with him. At least she could have offered him moral support, if nothing else. Maybe they would have grown even closer, without her dad interfering, free to develop a romantic relationship.

Now, after his second, and probably final, departure from the vault, all of her fantasies were looking like just that: fantasies, and nothing more. He seemed close with that Sarah Lyons chick she had heard so much about. They fought together, and they seemed to be always mentioned together, more so in the past few weeks. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought of him with another woman.

Three Dog mentioned Mark's dad, and that he was killed. She could only imagine the pain that Mark was in. He mentioned the purifier, and how Mark's mother and father had started working on it over twenty years ago. Three Dog reported how Mark was in a coma after having started the purifier. Every day she listened, hoping for good news, but days passed and nothing changed, until two weeks later when he finally woke up. Three Dog had reported on all of the things Mark said he did. She wanted to tell him that she knew exactly what he did, but she never found the right time.

The other thing that stood out was when Mark said that she didn't care for him. 'Dammit, Mark,' she thought, 'we've been friends since before we could walk. We shared everything with each other. How could you say I don't care for you? My father got in the way of any romance, you idiot.' It was true. Once she hit puberty, her father had her watched like a hawk. She yelled out in frustration and angrily swept the papers off her desk. As the papers settled on the floor, she got up from her desk and walked over to the window that overlooked the atrium. There were a couple of people talking to each other. One was Freddie Gomez, and the other one she couldn't remember the name of. She thought it was John or something. Freddie looked up and smiled at her. She smiled back and Freddie went back to talking. She had looked out this window plenty of times when she was growing up, but it seemed different, somehow. 'I guess it's all in the perspective,' she thought.

Then something dawned on her. 'Perspective…this whole thing with Mark, I need to look at it from his perspective. Why didn't I think of this sooner?' She started to pace around the room, talking to herself. "Ok. I'm Mark. Out of nowhere, I get a distress call from my best friend. She's running out of options, and getting desperate. I drop what I'm doing and come back to the vault. I see my friend for the first time in over a month-and-a-half. I'm so happy to see her. She asks me to talk to her father, and convince him that the vault needs to open to the world. I talk to her father, and he eventually relents. Her father comes down, and tells her that she's the new overseer. Once he leaves, I go over to congratulate her. I tell her that this is great news, that the vault finally has a real leader. She tells me that I'm a hero, but that I need to get out. We argue, and then I leave. What am I feeling right now? I'm feeling...angry, I'm feeling… betrayed…" Her voice became somber as things started to become clear. "I'm feeling…like I was used." She slumped down in her chair and hung her head. "Oh my god," she said, her voice barely audible, "what have I done?"

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. From this point forward, I will be jumping back and forth mostly from Mark and Amata's** **points of view. This chapter was just from Amata's point of view, but the next chapter will include Mark's point of view.**


	3. Chapter 3: Regrets

**Authors Note: Thanks to those of you who reviewed the first couple of chapters. I realize that the first couple of chapters are mostly dialogue and there is no shooting or fighting. The way I have it planned out, the next couple of chapters will be the same way. Trust me; we will get to the violence, but there is a point to this all this dialogue. Just bear with me. Please enjoy, and keep reviewing.**

Amata just sat there. She couldn't believe what she just realized. She had kicked her best friend out of the only place that he had ever called home, and _didn't realize_ how that would make him feel. 'Some friend I am,' she thought. She knew she needed to talk to him. She turned around and wheeled herself to the computer. She had snuck in here to send Mark that message in the first place. Then, she remembered what Mark had said to her: "Don't call me again," he had said, "we're done," he had said. A message wasn't going to suffice. She thought for a few minutes. This was going to require something a bit more…drastic. There were a thousand reasons not to do this, and only one reason to do it. That one reason, however, was all that she needed. She came back to her desk, pulled out some paper, and began to write. A mischievous smile came across her face. "Oh, Mark," she said to herself, "we are far, far from done."

(Hour-and-a-half later)

How do you fit your entire life into a duffel bag? Amata wasn't sure, but apparently she had. She stood there, staring at the vault door, just like a week ago. The only difference was, this time, she was leaving. Avoiding people to get here wasn't an issue. Herself, Mark, and her father were the only people that knew that under her desk was a shortcut to the vault door, and her bedroom had always been close to the office anyways. She had thought about it, and decided that leaving was for the best. She knew that as long as she was down here and that he was always going to be out there, and apparently never coming back, she was not going to be happy. There was no point in staying if she was going to be miserable. She had left two notes in her room. The first was a letter to her father, explaining what she was doing. The other was directions on who was to replace her, and to change the door code. She had no intention of coming back.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and walked over to the door control panel. This was it. Everything she had ever known, she was about to leave behind. Then again, Mark had been forced to do the same thing, and he turned out fine. No matter how long it took, she was going to make him forgive her. Who knows where he would be when the vault finally opened. She couldn't let last week be the last time they saw or spoke to each other. She entered the code, pulled the lever, and waited as the door opened. She looked behind her. No one had heard it, so she proceeded to walk down a tunnel she never dreamed that she would walk down. She finally faced the door that separated her from the outside world. She heard the vault door close behind her. For better or worse, this was her life now. She checked her personal 10 mm pistol that was holstered on her right hip and made sure it was loaded. She then opened the door and walked outside.

(Same time, Citadel)

Mark was sitting on a bench in the Citadel's courtyard, staring up at the night sky. It was twilight, the time of day where there was still some light, but you could see the stars as well. Mark was here because, with the Capital in a relative state of peace, the Brotherhood decided to go out west to try to reconnect with the other chapters, with whom they had been estranged for some time. Mark had been given an offer to join the Brotherhood, but he had politely declined, although he was still given access to the Citadel. He wasn't going to help the Brotherhood with their mission; he had his own reasons for leaving. The courtyard was quiet, and the air was crisp and cool. "Dad," he said still staring at the sky, "I could really use some advice right now. Am I making the right choice?" There was silence. "Nothing? How about some kind of sign?" More silence. He looked at the ground and chuckled. "I think I finally might have gone crazy, actually expecting an answer."

(6:50 PM, Megaton)

Amata stood at the top of the hill that overlooked Megaton. She looked around the town. 'Wow,' she thought, 'true civilization.' The buildings, the people, it was all _real._ These people, they lived there whole lives out here, and managed to survive, although how the ramshackle buildings were staying upright was a mystery to her, maybe one she could solve in time. She saw the giant bomb in the center of town. Three Dog had reported that Mark had disarmed it, and had been given a home here as a reward. Even though she knew it was inactive, is still seemed weird that people were walking by it like it wasn't even there. 'Ok, enough sightseeing,' she thought. She looked around for any indication of where Mark lived, but found none.

She saw someone with his back to her and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, could you help me with something?" The man turned around. He was about six feet tall, wearing a white head wrap, an eyepatch over his right eye, a black vest with a red undershirt, and black pants. "Hey there, name's Billy Creel. What can I help you with, miss?" "My name's Amata Almodovar. I was actually hoping if you could tell me where Mark Franklin lives?" He looked at her, noting the vault suit. "You must be from the vault. He lives in that house that's right behind you." "Thank you Billy," she said as she turned to head to his house. "Have a good night, miss," he called out to her.

She walked up to his door. 'So, this is the house of a hero,' she thought. She took a deep breath, fixed her hair as best she could, and knocked on the door. A few moments later, the door opened, and she expected to see Mark. Instead, she saw a Mr. Handy robot. She looked confused. "Uh…is Mark home?" "Ah, Miss Almodovar," the robot said, "I am Wadsworth. Please do come in." She walked in, closed the door, and put her bag down. "Wait, how do you know who I am?" "Master Franklin loaded a photo of you into my memory banks. He also asked me to play a message for you, should you ever visit. Please, sit." She sat down on a faded green couch up against the wall, and the message began to play.

" _Amata, this message is for your ears only. If you are listening to this, then two things have happened. The first thing is that the vault is open, and you are trading with the town. I want to give you some information on who you should and should not deal with. First is Sheriff Lucas Simms. He's an older black gentleman, wears a cowboy hat and duster. He's a good man. Don't cause any trouble, and he'll treat you fairly. Next is Colin Moriarty. He owns the saloon. Do not deal with him. I cannot stress that enough. He treats everything like a transaction. He'd probably sell his own mother if he got a good offer. He is a piece of human garbage. Next is Moira Brown. She owns Craterside Supply. It's basically a general store. She's…a bit eccentric, possibly scatterbrained, but she's a good person. She'll give you a fair deal. However, if she asks you to help her with her "experiments," decline immediately. The book I left for you should be more than enough of an explanation as to why._

 _Um, I guess you saw the bomb. Don't worry, it's inactive. There is this group that worships it that call themselves the "Church of the Children of Atom." They think it's their god or something like that, is probably the best way I can explain it. Don't worry, they're harmless. Uh, Jenny Stahl runs the Brass Lantern, it's a restaurant. Food's not bad. Doc Church is Megaton's physician. He's a bit gruff, but he knows what he's doing."_ Mark's voice became a bit more serious. _"Um, on a more personal note..."_

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Mark's message will finish in the next chapter. It's kind of long, so I decided to break it up. Until next time.**


	4. Chapter 4: Last Chances

**Author's Note: My condolences go out to everyone who was affected by the cowardly attacks in Paris, France. This may not mean much, but this story is hereby dedicated to all of them, to all who abhor terrorism, and to all those who stand up in defense of freedom and democracy around the world. We must go on and live our lives. If we do not, the terrorists win. Enjoy the chapter.**

" _On a more personal note, the second thing that has happened, which you may have figured out at this point, is that I have left DC for good. I don't know how long it's been since we last spoke in the vault that you are listening to this, but, um, what I said in the vault, I didn't mean it, especially the part about you not caring for me. I was hurting, and I guess, when you're hurting, or angry, you sometimes say things that you regret. I regret every word. I know that what you did, throwing me out, you did for the good of the vault. Just know that I don't hate you. I could never hate you._

 _As for where I'm going, I'm going to the west coast with the Brotherhood of Steel. You'll know them when you see them. They wear grey power armor. They're the good guys. They helped me out a lot. Probably the only reason that I'm still alive right now. They're going to reconnect with the other chapters they have out there. That's their business. I'm going with them to, um, start over. I just think that it's time. There are too many…painful memories here in DC. We left... what's today? We left at noon eight days after we last spoke."_ He chuckled. " _I don't even know why I bothered to tell you that. It's long since been irrelevant. This house, you and anyone from the vault are free to use it whenever you're in town. Except for Wally Mack. He is not to set one goddamn foot in this house. I think we both know why. However, you are the only one allowed into my bedroom. I left a couple of things on my desk for you to remember me by. You'll know what they are when you see them._

 _There's also a bag of bottlecaps, I don't think that I got a chance to tell you that bottlecaps_ _are what they use for money now, roughly 2000 of them in the bottom left drawer of my desk. That should be more than enough to get you started. I also called in all of my remaining favors from merchants and such to help you guys adjust to the wasteland. It's all organized through Sheriff Simms, so speak with him if you haven't already. Despite the way we left things, I don't want you guys to have to start out with next to nothing and no help, like I did. Consider giving you all of this, and the book, my penance for being a royal ass. I just hope that it makes up for what I did."_

He paused for a moment, and then continued. _"You remember how my mom died, right? Well, when my dad died, I did a lot of reflecting. On his life, his work, what he did for me. There's this saying that I always liked. It goes 'every dark cloud has a silver lining,' or something like that. Their deaths were dark clouds, and you- and I didn't realize this until recently, actually- that you were always the silver lining to me. Your smile, how it brightened up every room you walked in, how your laugh made me feel better when I had a bad day. I realized that, if my mom had never died, it is highly likely that I would never have been taken to the vault, and I would never have met you. That would have been a dark cloud that I would never have known was hanging over me._

 _The vault, we both know it wasn't perfect. I may not have been born there, but you and my dad always made it feel like home. Even when I was out in the wastes, my heart was always back there. As long- as long as you're there, my heart will always be there, in the vault, my home. You know, I find this kind of ironic. Here I am, spilling my guts to a robot, when I probably should have been doing this with you. Maybe if I said this in the vault, instead of going off on you like I did, maybe things could have been different. Maybe I could have stayed in DC, and you could have come to visit anytime you wanted when the vault opened for good. Hell, maybe you could have told everyone to fuck off and let me stay in the vault. Eh, there's no point in wondering what you could have done when you can't change it."_ Mark sounded like he was having trouble composing himself. _"Before I go, I just want to give you some advice. Don't…don't change, Amata. Don't ever change. You were always perfect in my eyes, and you will always be perfect. Oh, just one more thing. Do what makes you happy, be with whoever makes you happy. The only thing I ever wanted for you was for you to be happy. Good luck, Amata, and goodbye."_

The message finished playing, and Amata just sat on the couch, struggling to comprehend everything that had just been said. He had just poured out his heart and soul, and now he was gone. "Wadsworth, where- where is his bedroom?" "Up the stairs, to the left, miss." She got up, walked past Wadsworth, and walked up the stairs and into his room. It wasn't much, just some lockers, a desk, and a bed. It was what was on the desk that she was concerned with. There was a picture of the two of them, and a gun. It wasn't just any gun. It was the BB gun that Mark's now-deceased father had given to him on his tenth birthday. He loved that damn gun. He thought it was the greatest thing in the world. He showed her the shooting range his dad had set up on the reactor level, and taught her how to shoot it. The picture was of the two of them, right after she killed her first radroach. She picked up the gun and looked at it. 'It seemed a lot bigger back then,' she thought. She put the gun down, and sat on the bed as tears began to form in her eyes. 'I screwed up big time,' she thought. 'How many times had he sat on this bed, just wanting to come home?'

She grabbed the pillow off his bed, held it close to her, and smelled it. It was definitely his scent. "Mark," she said out loud, "if I could turn back time, I would just let you come and go as you please." She sat there for a few minutes, wallowing in despair, when something occurred to her. "Wait, what did he say about time? He said…they left at noon eight days after we had our fight." She looked at her pip-boy. "It's only been a week. That means…he hasn't left yet." She perked up. "Of course. He didn't think that I'd be here this soon. He probably figured it would take months before we started trading with the outside world." She thought of what to do next. She needed to get to the Citadel, but there was no way she could get there by herself, even with the map in the book. Then she realized that the answer was in Mark's message. "I need to find the Sheriff."

She ran downstairs and out the front door. Coincidentally, Sheriff Simms had been passing by at that exact moment. She knew it was him from Mark's description. "Excuse me, Sheriff Simms?" "What can I do for you miss?" She spoke frantically. "My name is Amata, and I'm a friend of Mark's. He's leaving for good tomorrow at noon, and I need to get to the Citadel. I have two thousand caps upstairs, and they're yours if you can escort me there. Please, I am _begging_ you." He looked at her. "So you're Amata, huh? You know, he never shut up about you. It was always 'Amata' this, or 'Amata' that. Look, um, keep your caps. I'll take you, but not tonight. I don't like traveling in the dark. We'll leave at 8:30 tomorrow morning, ok? And go see Moira at Craterside Supply, and get some better gear. That vault suit and those shoes ain't gonna cut it out here." "Thank you Sheriff," she said giving him a hug, "you have no idea what this means to me." As she turned back to the house, she thought, 'I'm coming for you, Mark.'

(11:50 AM the next morning, the Citadel)

Mark stood in the Citadel courtyard with a duffel bag in hand. He looked at the two vertibirds that had been emblazoned with the Brotherhood logo. This was it. He was about to leave everything that he had ever known, again. "Franklin, you ready?" someone said to him. It was Sarah Lyons. He sighed and looked at the sky. "Yeah, I guess it's that time." She was about to say something else when a paladin came up and whispered something in her ear. She listened, nodded, and turned to Mark. "There's someone outside the gate who says she needs to speak with you. Says her name's Amata. I'm guessing this is the same woman you told me about?" 'Amata? What is she doing here?' Then he remembered the message. 'Oh, hell this isn't going to be good.' "Let her in." A couple minutes later, he saw her walking towards him, a determined look on her face. She was carrying a blue and gold duffel bag, and wearing some leather armor and brown combat boots over her vault suit. Interestingly enough, that look turned Mark on. 'Most likely from Moira,' Mark mused. 'Wonder if Moira asked her anything about the vault, like she did to me.'

"Amata, why aren't you in-." He never got to finish, because she came up and kissed him. When she pulled away, Mark was at a loss for words. That was not what he was expecting. "That's for telling me how you felt," she said. Then she smacked him across the face. That's what he was expecting. "That's for how you acted in the vault." She smacked him again. "That was for thinking you could leave DC without saying goodbye to my face after everything we've been through together." Then she smacked him a third time. "And that's for not fighting for me if that's how you felt about me." Mark got his voice back. "Never fought for you? Amata, I have always fought for you." "How, exactly?"

Mark pulled out his pistol. "Do you know what this is?" "It's a pistol. So what?" Mark sighed. "Amata, this isn't just any pistol. This is the same pistol you gave me the day I escaped. Look at the grip. What does it say?" She held it up and looked at the grip. "It says… dad." "Turn it over. What else does it say?" She turned it over, and when she saw her name, she couldn't speak. "I etched those names in the grip to remind myself of why I was fighting: to find my dad, and to see you again. You want to call me a jerk, an idiot, fine. You want to keep hitting me, go ahead. I deserve it for the way I acted in the vault. Never say that I never fought for you. When my dad died, you became my only reason to fight. I always fought for you, in more ways than one. I fought for you, Amata, because," Mark was struggling to contain his emotions, "because I love you." She was shocked. "You…love me?" "Amata, I have always loved you." He started to cry. She took his hands, and he looked at her. She was crying too, but with a smile on her face. "I love you, too." Then they kissed.

This kiss was different. The world seemed like it ceased to exist. It was just the two of them, locked in a passionate embrace. After what felt like forever, they were brought back to earth. It was Sarah. "Hey, lovebirds, break it up. Franklin, you coming or not?" Mark looked at Amata. "I guess since you brought a bag, you didn't just come to say goodbye." "Nope. You said you wanted to start over. We're going to start over…together. Besides, you forgot something." She unzipped her bag, and pulled out the BB gun. He took it from her, put it in his bag, and gestured towards the vertibirds. "Shall we?" "We shall." She held his hand as they made their way towards the vertibirds. Two minutes later, the vertibirds took off towards a brighter future.

 **I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. It was a little longer than the others because I didn't want to drag this whole sequence out any further. Until next time.**


	5. Chapter 5: The More Things Change

**Author's Note: When I began publishing this story, I aimed for posting two chapters per week. However, I do work in retail, and as you are aware, the holidays are upon us. Two chapters per week are not really feasible right now. With that being said, until the holidays are over, I will only be posting one chapter per week. Enjoy, and please continue to send in reviews.**

(One month later, Goodsprings, NV)

It had been nearly a month since Mark and Amata had their emotional reunion and left the Capital Wasteland. The east coast chapter of the Brotherhood had left the Mojave and had moved onto California. Mark and Amata had settled in a small town called Goodsprings. It wasn't a big town by any stretch of the imagination, and it was barely on the map, which was perfect for someone who wanted anonymity. They had a general store, a saloon, a doctor, and a few residents that herded brahmin. Mark had taught Amata everything that he knew about maintaining and using various types of weapons, as well as training her in hand-to-hand combat. She had taken a job guarding the town with a spitfire named Sunny Smiles. They moved into a small, unused home in the middle of the town. It wasn't much, and a little derelict, but they worked as much as they could to fix it up.

Mark had found a job as a courier for the Mojave Express. He didn't do it for the caps. He had plenty of those, and they didn't spend a lot living in the town. Mark had only made one delivery so far, and he had started to learn the lay of the land, as it was. He also created a workout regimen to help him keep in shape, as well as helping the residents of Goodsprings with any odd jobs they needed help with, mostly just to stay busy and to get to know everyone better. It was 5:30 pm, and Mark was in the saloon, and he and Trudy, the bartender, were reminiscing about how they prevented an all-out assault on the town.

(2 and-a-half weeks earlier)

Mark had just returned home from making his first delivery for the Mojave Express. He had delivered the package to the Mojave Outpost, where the New California Republic had set up shop. Mark went into the saloon to get a drink when he saw Trudy arguing with a black man wearing a powder blue jacket that said NCRCF on it. "I'm not gonna ask again," the man said. "Hand over Ringo and maybe my friends and I won't burn this shithole of a town to the ground." "I'll keep that in mind," Trudy said sarcastically. "Now, if you're not gonna buy anything, get the hell out."

Mark stared at him as he brushed past Mark and walked out the door. Mark sat down at the bar. "Hey, Trudy, what the hell was that all about?" "Oh, hey Mark. It seems that when you were out of town, this trader, Ringo, comes into town. He said he survived an ambush on his caravan. He said there were some men after him. I gave him a place to lie low. He's up in the abandoned gas station on the hill." Mark could see where this was going. "So I'm guessing that that guy was one of the men after him?" "Yeah, his name's Joe Cobb. He's one of them Powder Gangers. You know about them, right?" Mark nodded. He said, "Do you have some kind of plan to deal with this, or what?" She shrugged. "Some of the others, like Sunny, would probably help him if he asks, which he hasn't. Personally, I hope he slinks out of town in the middle of the night, and takes them with him." Mark thought for a minute. He knew that even if Ringo left, these idiots wouldn't leave. "I'll go talk to him, see what happens." "Much obliged, Mark."

Mark walked up the hill to the old, dilapidated gas station. The windows were boarded up, but there was still space to look out and shoot a gun if necessary. Mark raised his arms in the air, and called out. "Ringo, my name is Mark. I know you can probably see me. I am not with the Powder Gangers. I'm coming in. Do not shoot. I am here to help you." Mark kept his left arm raised and opened the door with his right hand. The only light in the room was the sun, but Mark could see the inside was dirty and musty from two hundred years of disuse. He kept his arm raised as he shut the door. He looked around and saw Ringo pointing a gun at him. "Ringo, if you are going to shoot me, you better make that first shot count, because you won't get a second."

"Sorry," he said as he holstered his gun, "I'm just kind of jumpy." Mark lowered his arms. "Ok, Trudy told me what happened, but I'd like to hear it from you." "Ok. I'm with the Crimson Caravan Company. We were on our way back to our headquarters near Vegas when the shooting started. Not even a 'hands up' kinda warning. We took out a few of them, but I was the only one who survived the attack on our end, and then I ended up here." "So, what are you planning to do? Do you have any kind of attack plan?" He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "I was kinda hoping they'd forget and just move on." Mark sighed and rubbed his temple. "Ringo, they're not gonna forget. They will find you eventually."

"I know, I just- I'm not a very good fighter. Hell, there are at least seven of 'em left. I can't take them all on by myself, and the two of us ain't much better." "Ringo, it isn't just gonna be the two of us. Trudy told me Sunny wants to help, and my girl, Amata, she'll probably help. We can probably get some of the others to help, too. Just wait here, and let me see what I can do." He looked at Mark with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "You really think we can do this?" "I know we can." They shook hands. "Thanks man. I'll wait here for you." Mark left the building, and as soon as he shut the door behind him, he saw Amata and Sunny passing by. "Ah, just the people I was looking for. You ladies up for a fight?"

A half-hour later, their impromptu militia had been set up. Amata and Sunny were lying prone on the roof of the saloon, as they both had hunting rifles, and were the two best shots besides Mark. Anyone who didn't want to fight was in the back of the saloon, and everyone else, including Ringo, was behind the barricade. They set up a makeshift barricade in front of the saloon, using whatever they could find. Chet, the guy who ran the general store, even donated some armor and weapons, although getting him to give some up took some convincing. They were ready to go when Mark saw the Powder Gangers approach. Mark stood up from behind the barricade. "COBB! I'm giving you one chance. Leave, and you and all of your friends live. Stay and fight, you all die." Mark had a dangerous gleam in his eyes, and if anyone Mark fought with from D.C. was there to see that look, they would have known that the Powder Gangers were truly and utterly screwed. They did not heed his words, and continued to advance. "All right, don't say that I didn't warn you." He threw his right hand in the air. "Light 'em up, everyone." Gunfire erupted all around him.

Two of the Powder Gangers fell instantly from headshots courtesy of Amata and Sunny. The rest dove for cover. Mark took out a frag grenade, pulled the pin, and threw it in the general direction of their attackers. He then grabbed his assault rifle and started firing. A few minutes later, the gunfire had stopped. The only Powder Ganger left was Joe Cobb, and he was on the ground, writhing in pain from a bullet to his right hand. After Mark made sure everyone was ok, he walked over to Cobb, seemingly radiating power. Amata, who had come down from the roof, saw the powerful way in which he carried himself, and an aroused moan escaped from her mouth, and she thought she saw Sunny drool a bit. When everything was cleaned up, Amata knew that she was going to drag Mark back to their house and have her way with him.

"Cobb, I gave you a warning, and yet, you insisted. You don't fuck with my home. If you do, you fuck with me, and I'm a guy you don't wanna fuck with. I guess you learned that lesson the hard way." He leveled his pistol at Cobb's head. "Any last words, Cobb?" Cobb looked around at his fallen friends, then back at Mark, a scowl still on his face. "Who the hell are you?" Mark just smiled at him. "Me? I'm no one special. I'm just a courier." Bang.

 **I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. In case anyone missed it, the whole scene about them fighting the Powder Gangers was a flashback. Please review, and I hope everyone has a happy Thanksgiving. Until next time.**


	6. Chapter 6: Special Deliveries

**Author's Note: Nothing really to talk about this time. As always, please enjoy, and review.**

(3 weeks later)

Mark was sitting at the table of their home. It was close to 1 PM, and Amata was on patrol. He had his and Amata's pip-boys sitting in front of him. He had been modifying them with identical frequencies and an on-screen keyboard so that they could talk or send messages to each other from about twenty to twenty-five miles away. It wasn't that difficult for him, really. He had always had a knack for modifying electronics. Plus, there were still satellites up in orbit around the earth, even if no one had used them in two-hundred plus years. He doubted anyone would mind him using a couple of them. For easy identification, the frequency on his would read 'Amata,' and Amata's would read 'Mark.'

As he put the casings back on, he thought about what had transpired in the past couple of months. He had saved the vault, subsequently got kicked out of the vault by the girl of his dreams, who then traveled halfway across the Capital to catch him before he left for good. Then they reconciled emotionally a few minutes before the vertibirds were due to take off, and now they were living together in the Mojave. He put the last screws in, and turned them back on to make sure they were still working properly. After running a few tests, he was satisfied that they were still in proper working order. He would have to test the long-range capabilities with Amata later.

He leaned back in his chair, ran his right hand through his hair, and started to think about his dad. Mostly, he wondered if his dad would be proud of what he had done. Nearly dying finishing the work on Project Purity that his mother and father had started before he was born. Then his thoughts drifted to the mother that he never knew, whom he had only seen in a picture. He remembered what his father had told him about her: "…she was so eager to meet you, to make a place for you in the world. If nothing else, please believe that she loved you very much."

Mark had been so lost in thought that he didn't notice that Amata had come in and had sat down across from him. "Something on your mind?" she asked. He looked at her and smiled. "Yeah," he said, "I was just thinking about if my dad would be proud of me, with everything that I've done." Amata reached across the table, and took his hands in hers. "Mark, I knew your dad as long as you did. You helped out so many people in the wastes. You were ready to sacrifice yourself so that the rest of the wasteland could have clean water. You killed the man who was responsible for your dad's death, and you destroyed an organization that wanted to use the water to control people. You are a _hero._ There is no way that your dad wouldn't be proud of you."

She then gave him a coy smile. "Plus, I don't wanna brag, but you got the most beautiful woman in DC to fall in love with you. I mean, how many other girls can say they got with the famous 'Lone Wanderer?'" "Well," Mark said with a grin, "there was that one time with Christine Kendall…" Amata shot him a dirty look. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I'm just glad we decided to leave the legend of the Lone Wanderer in DC. All I want to be now is just plain old Mark Franklin, courier, and the man in love with Amata Almodovar." She got up, walked around the table, and kissed him. "It'll always be a part of you, Mark, but I didn't fall in love with the 'Lone Wanderer.' I fell in love with 'plain old Mark Franklin', because you were a hero to me long before you ever became one in the wastes."

(1 week later)

It was about 1:30 pm, and Mark had just returned from the Mojave Express outpost in Primm with a new delivery order. It was to be delivered to New Vegas, and the order said that it was an 'oversized poker chip, composed of platinum.' Mark had heard tales of New Vegas since he had been out here. It was the pre-war city of Las Vegas that had been miraculously spared from the bombs that destroyed the world, although no one knew exactly how that had happened. There was gambling, prostitutes, and everything else that you would expect from a city of sin. It also happened to be run by a Mr. House, although no one had ever met him face-to-face.

He looked around the house to tell Amata, but he couldn't find her. 'She must be on patrol. I'll go find her and tell her,' he thought. He set down the chip and delivery order on the table, and went outside to go find her. He saw Sunny near the saloon and went over to talk to her. "Hey Sunny, where's Amata? Don't you two usually patrol together?" "Normally," she said, "but she said she was having stomach pain and went to see Doc Mitchell. She's probably still up there." "Thanks, Sunny," he said, beginning the short walk to the Doc's house.

He was about to reach for the door handle when the door opened and Amata appeared in the doorway. She was a bit surprised. She put her right hand on her chest. "Jesus, Mark, you scared me." "Sorry. So what's this about you having stomach pains? Are you all right? What did the Doc say?" "It's- it's nothing. Don't worry about it." Mark wasn't buying it. "Amata, I can tell when you're lying. Plus, your left eye's twitching. _What is going on?_ " he asked, stressing each word. "Damn, I hoped you didn't notice that. You know how I've been feeling a bit weird lately?" "And wouldn't see Doc Mitchell, even though I insisted? Yes, I know," Mark replied. "Well, it turns out that...". She took his hands in hers, looked into his eyes, and gave him a nervous smile. "Mark, I'm pregnant."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I know it's a little shorter than the rest, but I couldn't find any good way to stretch it out any further. How's that for a cliffhanger, though? Until next time, and as always, reviews are welcomed.**


	7. Chapter 7: A Gambit of Emotions

**Author's Note: Before we get going, I just wanted to say that I just completed the main storyline for Fallout 4. I won't spoil it for those of you who haven't, but it was pretty damn awesome in my opinion. Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and as always, reviews are welcome.**

"Mark, I'm pregnant." Mark stood there, stunned. He seemed to zone out as about a thousand thoughts started to run through his head at once. 'Did she just…she didn't…this is a dream, right...I'll wake up and…pregnant?!' Amata stared at him waiting for some reaction, but all she got was him staring off into space, his mouth moving, but with no words coming out. She didn't feel like waiting anymore, so she reached up and smacked him across the face. That did the trick. He reached up and rubbed his right cheek. "Ow, what the hell?" "I just told you that I was pregnant, and all you did was start staring into space like an idiot. What are you feeling right now?" Mark saw a couple residents staring at them.

"Come on, let's go home first," said Mark. A couple minutes later, they were in their home and they both sat down on their couch. "I ask again, _what are you feeling?_ " "I-I honestly don't know." He leaned back against the couch. "Having a kid…that's a pretty big bomb to drop on someone. How did this happen?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh, did they not teach you how all that stuff works in the boys health class? I know they did in the girls class." Mark stammered. 'I-I obviously know _how_ it happened. What I meant was… was when did it happen?" "Well, Doc says I'm just a little under a month along, so I have a pretty good idea…"

(A little over three weeks ago)

It was close to eleven at night. There was a full moon. It was quiet, and the air was crisp and cool. Mark and Amata were sitting against their home, just looking at the sky. They were both in regular street clothes, and Amata had her head on Mark's right shoulder. Neither of them said anything for a while, when Amata spoke up. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" "Hmm? What'd you say?" "The moon; It's beautiful." "It certainly is," said Mark. "When you first left the vault, what did you think when you first saw it?" Mark tried to think back. "I didn't really think about it. I'm pretty sure I was trying to hide from raiders at the time." Amata chuckled. "Well, there's no one chasing you know, so tell me what you think." "It is beautiful, but its beauty can't hold a candle to you." They looked at each other. "Well, aren't you the charmer," said Amata as they kissed. "Hey, I try."

They sat in silence for a few minutes when Mark asked her a question. "Hey baby, do you ever regret coming out here, leaving everything and everyone you ever knew?" She was confused. "Why do you ask? Have I done or said anything that would make you think that I did?" He smiled. "No, no, it's nothing like that. I was just curious." She thought for a minute. "You know, this silence isn't exactly comforting," said Mark. "Shut up. I wanted to phrase this correctly. I don't regret it. Not for one second. Hell, you did the same thing when you left the vault for the first time. I doubt you had time to think about what was happening when I woke you up to tell you that you dad left. From where I'm sitting, you turned out pretty well. I had a week to dwell on it before I decided to leave the vault."

"You know, I never did thank you for helping me escape. They killed Jonas, who the hell knows what your dad would have done to me." "I would do it again, because we were friends, and now we're lovers. I know if the situation was reversed, you would have done the same." Mark didn't say anything, as they gazed into each other's eyes, and then started to make out. They both knew where this was headed. They continued to kiss as they stood up, and Mark fumbled for the door handle. He finally got it open, and as soon as they were both inside, he slammed it shut.

(Back to the present)

"I remember that being a pretty good night," Mark said with a chuckle. "Yes it was. It was apparently also the night that you knocked me up, so congratulations," she said sarcastically. "Hey, I didn't hear any complaining that night. Hell, I remember the next day I had to drink four bottles of water just to get some fluids back in me." "Mark, this is serious. We are having a child. I don't want it to grow up with only one parent, like the both of us did. You have to promise me that you won't take any unnecessary risks." He looked at her and held her left hand with his right. "I promise. My risk-taking days are over. I've had enough of those to last a lifetime." She smiled at him and they kissed. "Thank you."

"Wait," said Mark, "how are you feeling about all of this?" She fidgeted on the couch a bit. "I'm happy, and nervous, and scared, and a lot of other things that I can't explain. I mean, our child- _our child-_ is growing inside of me." "You're right. It is our child. We will always be there for it, and it will always be loved." Mark got up. "Wait here. I'll be right back." Before she could ask why, he was already out the door.

(Thirty minutes later)

Mark had gathered everyone in the saloon, and he had left to get Amata. Everyone was wondering what was going on. Sunny was at the bar talking to Trudy. "You know why Mark wanted all of us here?" asked Sunny. "Hell if I know," said Trudy. Just then, the door opened and Mark and Amata came in holding hands. They stood in front of everyone, and Mark spoke up. "I know you're all probably wondering why I wanted the town here. Since we came here a few months ago, all of you have made the both of us feel welcome. You have made this town feel like home to us. We got some great news, and we wanted to share it with the rest of you." He looked at Amata. "Go ahead, tell them," said Mark. There was silence for a moment, and then she blurted out "we're having a baby!"

The celebration lasted until well after it got dark. At one point, the song "Jingle, Jangle, Jingle" came on the jukebox, and Chet, the guy who owned the general store, got up on the bar and started to sing. He was clearly drunk, as he couldn't stand up straight and was slurring the words. He then passed out and fell face-first onto the floor. Sunny and someone else had to carry his limp body out of the bar. Eventually, Mark and Amata found their way back home. He told her about the delivery job to Vegas, and that he would leave tonight and do it as fast as he could so they could celebrate in private.

(Close to midnight)

Amata was sleeping peacefully when she heard a knock on the door. She ignored it and turned over. The knocking became more frantic. "All right, all right, I'm coming." She put on a t-shirt and shorts, grabbed her pip-boy and flipped the light switch next to the door. She rubbed her eyes and opened the door. Sunny was standing there, with a worried look on her face. "Sunny, what's going on? It's almost midnight," she said groggily. "Amata, it's Mark. He was shot."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. If any of you have any questions about any part of the story that you may need clarification on, or if there was anything you were unsure about, please feel free to message me. I will try to answer to the best of my abilities. Until next time.**


	8. Chapter 8: Future Uncertain

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season. I also hope that everyone is enjoying the story thus far. Enjoy the chapter, and, as always, reviews are welcome.**

"What do you mean, he was shot? Where is he? Is he alive? Sunny, tell me what's going on." Amata's voice started to sound panicked and she was on the verge of tears. "He was found up at the graveyard. You know that robot, Victor?" Amata nodded. "He found Mark and got him to Doc Mitchell. I only know about it because I couldn't sleep and was outside getting some air. He was shot in the head. He's alive, but he's unconscious. Doc's operating on him right now."

"Then what the hell are we still doing here?" Amata practically yelled. She went to move past Sunny, but Sunny blocked her. "Amata, you don't want to see him right now. Doc needs to monitor his vitals, and he can use Mark's pip-boy, but it's locked with some kind of code. You know about that?" "Y-ye-yeah, he lo-locked both of ours with a code to-to prevent unauthorized access. Now move. I am going to see him." "No, you're not. I promise, when Doc is done, I will come get you." Sunny ran her hand through her hair. "Look, you need to sit down. Let me get you some water."

Amata looked like she was ready to slug Sunny, but she took a seat on the couch. "You're right. I just need to calm down." Sunny closed the door, and went into the kitchen. When she opened the fridge, she looked in for some water, when she heard the front door open and close. "Goddammit." She slammed the fridge door shut and ran after her. "Amata, come back!" By the time Sunny got to Doc Mitchell's house, the door was open, and Amata was just staring at Doc Mitchell, who was in the corner of his makeshift operating room, working on Mark. She had tears in her eyes and her right hand was over her mouth.

Doc spoke with his back still turned. "Sunny, is that you? You get that code?" He turned around. His head was sweaty and his hands had blood on them. His face dropped when he saw Amata. "Oh. Amata, I-." She started to walk towards the table, but Sunny hugged her and made sure she faced away from Mark. "Sorry, Doc. She tricked me. I couldn't keep her away." She could feel Amata crying silently into her shoulder. "Be that as it may, I still need that code," said the doc.

She made Amata let go of her and looked her in the eyes. They were starting to become bloodshot. "Amata, honey, I know that you're upset. I promise, I will stay with you as long as you need me to. I need you to focus right now, because the doc is the best chance Mark has at surviving. Can you focus for me?" Amata gave a weak nod. "Good. Now tell Doc the code." She looked at the doc, then the part of Mark she could see, and then back to Doc. "It's- it's my birthday. 08122258." Doc punched in the code, which worked. "Ok. Sunny take her in my bedroom. I need to work." He turned back to Mark. Sunny hugged Amata again and led her into Doc's bedroom.

Sunny closed the door and they both sat down on the bed. Amata was breathing heavily. Sunny didn't have much experience in these situations, so she wasn't sure what to say. After sitting in silence for close to fifteen minutes, she spoke up. "Did, um, did you guys talk about names for the baby at all?" Amata tried to compose herself. "N-not y-yet, but I tho-thought that if it w-was a b-boy that we could call him James after Mark's father, and if it w-was a girl, we could name it Julie after my mother." Sunny tried her best to smile. "Those are great names. I'm sure Mark's gonna love them." Amata didn't answer. "Sunny, if he doesn't make it, I don't know what I'm gonna do. He is my whole world." Sunny hugged her again and patted her on the back. "Hey, hey, hey, don't talk like that. He's gonna make it." "How do you know?" Amata asked through tears. Sunny didn't have an answer.

(2 hours later)

Sunny had fallen asleep, while Amata was wide awake, waiting for news. Finally, the door opened and Doc Mitchell came in, who then flipped on the light. The light startled both Sunny and Amata. When Amata saw him, she was fully alert. "Doc, please tell me it's good news," Amata said. "He is alive." Amata exhaled, as did Sunny. "Let me finish. He is alive but he's in a coma. He was shot twice in the head. Medically speaking, those two bullets should've killed him. Right now, he's got a fifty-fifty shot at waking up." Amata hung her head, and muttered, "oh no, not again." Doc looked at Sunny, who was as confused as he was. "Amata," asked the doc, "what do you mean, 'not again?'" Without looking up, Amata spoke. "Back in DC, he was involved in an accident that left him in a coma for two weeks."

Doc got a concerned look on his face, but didn't want to make her even more upset. He knew that might be a problem. "Amata, all we can do now is wait. You are welcome to stay here as long as you need. I set up a cot next to the table. Treat my home as your own." Amata didn't say anything. Instead, she got up and walked out of the room. She walked up to Mark. His armor and weapons were discarded off to the side. He was only wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of pants. There was a three-inch scar running down the left side of his face. She held his left hand and looked at him. His face was expressionless. Amata remembered a story her father had told her when she was a child, about a handsome prince whose kiss awoke a sleeping princess. She didn't expect it to work, but she leaned over and kissed him anyway. She held it for a few seconds, and then pulled away, hoping for a miracle. He remained there, motionless.

(1 week later)

The next week went by in a blur for Amata. Sunny came by every day with a change of clothes. Doc checked his vitals every few hours, and changed his IV bag as needed. Amata never left Mark's side. It was close to nighttime on the seventh day, and Doc stepped outside to get some air. Amata was sitting on the edge of the cot, staring at Mark. She looked down and saw his pistol. She picked it up and looked at it. She saw her name etched in one side of the grip. "Mark," she said to no one, "you told me that you never stopped fighting for me. I need you to keep fighting. Keep fighting for you, for me and for our child. I don't wanna have to raise this child without you by my side. We didn't go through everything we did, just for you to die just as we're starting this new life together. Please, Mark, please wake up."

Mark could tell something was wrong. He was standing in the control room for Project Purity, wearing nothing but a vault suit and his pip-boy. He looked at the pip-boy, but the screen was blank. He tried turning some knobs, but nothing happened. He looked around. The machine seemed to be operating fine, but there were no scientists. He tried to open the doors to the rest of the Jefferson Memorial, but they wouldn't budge. None of this made sense. He had left DC months ago, hadn't he? He turned back around to face the machine when he saw two people staring at him, a man and a woman. The man he recognized as his father, and the other person, it took him a second, only because he had only seen her in a picture. It was his mother.

He was stunned. "Dad? Mom? Is it really you?" They both nodded, and Mark ran over and hugged them. He was on the verge of tears. "H-how is this possible? Am I dead?" "No, honey, you're not dead. You're just in a coma. It's been a week, in fact." "You were shot, son," said James. "M-mom," Mark said, "I really wished that I could've gotten to know you." "I know," said his mother, "but the minutes that I held you were the happiest minutes of my life." James spoke. "Son, we're both very proud of what you've done." "You mean with Project Purity?" "Yes, Project Purity is part of it. Mostly, it was everything else that you've done. You helped countless people try to live better lives, putting yourself in harm's way to do so. Now, you've got a great girl, and you're going to be a father." "Yeah," said Mark, fighting back tears, "I'm gonna be a dad." "You know," said his mother, "when we found out that I was pregnant with you, we were so happy." "We most certainly were," said James, looking at the machine.

"Project Purity was a great thing that we created, but no matter how much your mother and I loved it, you always have been, and always will be, our greatest creation." Mark lost it and started crying uncontrollably. "I miss you two so much. I wish you two were still with me." "We wish we could be with you too, honey, but know this: we will always love you, and we will always watch over you, Amata, and your child." "Now son, you need to wake up. Amata's been worried sick about you. Plus, your work is not done." "What does that mean?" Everything started to fade out. "No, wait, come back. What does that mean?" He fell to his knees, surrounded only by darkness.

Amata was still staring at the pistol when she noticed Mark start to move. She put down the gun and sat up. She saw that his eyes were open. "Mark," she said weakly, "are you with me?" He smiled and said, "well, I don't want to be with anyone else." She smiled as he sat up, groaning from the stiffness of his back. She hugged him as hard as she could. "Mark, I thought I lost you." "Hey, you should know by now that I'm not that easy to kill." She let go of him and smiled. He looked at his pip-boy. "Hey, look at today's date." She looked at her own pip-boy. The date read December 25, 2277. "Merry Christmas, Amata." She said, "Merry Christmas, Mark," Amata said as they shared a passionate Christmas kiss.

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I made up Amata's birthday and mother's name. I could only find the year for the birthdate, and no references to her mother's name. If anyone can find any solid references to these, please message me and I will be happy to correct them. Until next time.**


	9. Chapter 9: Decisions

**Authors Note: To user Hermyrubi, thanks for the info on Amata. I just wanted to make sure I was keeping the story as accurate as possible. Glad that you're enjoying the story. To all of you, enjoy the chapter, and keep the reviews coming.**

For the first three days following Mark waking up, Amata forbade him from leaving their home. He thought about arguing with her, but he knew she must have thought he may never wake up, so he decided against it and let her take care of him. So, for those three days, she waited on him hand and foot. He tried to remember what happened, but all he was getting were bits and pieces that didn't make sense to him. He also realized that the platinum chip was missing from his belongings, and a search of the town and graveyard by Sunny and a couple other people yielded nothing either. By the end of the third day, Mark was starting to get a bit of cabin fever. He hadn't willingly stayed indoors this long since he left the vault.

Near the end of the third day, Mark couldn't take it anymore. He was sitting in the kitchen, and when Amata went into the bedroom, Mark got up and walked to the front door as quietly as he could. He opened the door slowly, and he was almost out when the door creaked loudly. "Fuck," Mark said under his breath. "Where exactly do you think you're going?" Amata said as she came back into the room with her arms crossed. "I was just going-. " Amata interrupted him. "If you finish that sentence with 'outside,' I swear that I will restrain you to the bed." "Is that a promise?" Mark said with a sly grin on his face. Amata was not amused.

"Mark, this isn't funny. You nearly died." Mark put his hands on her shoulders. "Amata, baby, I know that you're worried that I'm gonna get shot again, but I swear, I'll be fine. Look, here, we have this nice little life, with no real big threats. Back in DC, I fought raiders, and super mutants, and all those types of assholes every day. I'm sure that I got a bit complacent. You've been a great nurse, and I appreciate everything that you've done for me, but I need some god damn air." She just stared at him for a minute, and then ran a hand along the scar on his face. "Fine," she said, albeit reluctantly, "but you've got ten minutes. If you come back a minute later, I _will_ make good on that threat to restrain you, got it?" "Yes dear."

Mark stepped outside and was hit with a nice nighttime breeze. He took a deep breath, and then exhaled. He heard a noise to his right, and immediately drew his pistol and pointed it in that direction. When he saw it was Victor, he lowered his gun. Victor was a securitron robot, a robot that rolled along on one wheel, was kind of box shaped, and had a monitor with a face on it. Victor had the face of an old-time cowboy smoking a cigarette. When they first moved to Goodsprings, Mark and Amata asked around about what Victor actually did, but no one could say for sure, or remember how long he had been here. "Howdy partner," Victor said as he approached, "might I say, you're looking as fit as a fiddle." "Hey Victor, thanks for getting me to the doc so fast." He waved one of his claw-like hands. "Ah, don't mention it. Always ready to help out when needed." Mark got curious. "Victor, did you see what happened that night?"

"Well, I was out for a stroll that night when I heard a commotion up at the old bone orchard," he said, pointing at the cemetery that overlooked Goodsprings. "I saw what looked like some bad eggs, so I laid low. Once I saw that they were gone, I dug you up and got you to the doc." "Do you know who they were?" "Afraid not, partner. You might want to check in town. Someone else might have seen something." "Well, thanks Victor. Have a good night." "You too, partner," he said, as he rolled away. Mark walked towards the saloon, trying again to remember what happened that night.

(10 days ago)

Mark's vision was blurry, and the back of his head hurt like hell. As his vision came back into focus, he could see he was in the graveyard near Goodsprings. He tried to move his hands, but he realized that they were bound. He saw three men standing over him. The man in the middle was wearing a black and white checkered suit, and had slicked back black hair. The two men on either side of him were dark-skinned men, both wearing black leather jackets with the insignia of the Great Khans on them. The man in the middle saw that Mark had woken up. "Time to cash out kid," he said as he took out what Mark recognized as the chip he was supposed to deliver. "Would you get it over with?" the man on the right said. "Hey," the man in the middle said, "maybe Khans shoot someone without looking 'em in the face, but I ain't a fink, dig?" He turned back to Mark. "You've made your last delivery, kid. Sorry you got twisted up in this scene." He then pulled out a 9mm pistol. "From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an 18-karat run of bad luck… truth is, the game was rigged from the start." As the man reached for the trigger, Mark's thoughts drifted to Amata. A shot, then darkness.

(Present day)

Mark realized that he had walked up to the saloon, so he opened the door and went inside. Trudy was the only one in there, and she was wiping down the bar. "Hey Mark, haven't seen you since you were unconscious at doc's house. How you feeling?" "A lot better Trudy, thanks. Amata's been taking good care of me." "Can I get you anything?" asked Trudy. "Actually, I was looking for some information. The men who shot me, two Khans and a guy in a suit, did they come in here that night?" Trudy thought for a moment. "As a matter of fact, they did. They were a bunch of freeloaders who expected a few rounds on the house. I got them to pay up, though." "Did they say where they were headed, by any chance?" "Well, from what I could figure out, they were headed towards Vegas. Sounds like they had come in through Quarry Junction. One of 'em didn't want to go back that way, and I can't say I blame him." Mark knew what she was talking about. That whole area was infested with deathclaws.

"Mark!" A voice came over his pip-boy. "You've got two minutes." "Coming, dear," said Mark over his pip-boy. "Goodnight, Trudy." "Goodnight, Mark." As Mark walked back to their home, he was thinking if he should tell Amata about what he had learned. 'Was it even worth it?' he thought. 'I mean, I did promise her that I wouldn't go on anymore adventures. Hell, I'm gonna be a dad. I did survive two gunshots to the head. Maybe I should just let it go.' As he reached for the door handle, he decided he would sleep on it.

The next morning, the two of them were in the kitchen. Amata was about to go patrol the town with Sunny, and Mark was drinking a bottle of water. He stared at the bottle, and then let out a sigh. "Amata, I have something to tell you." She turned around as she was fixing her hair into a ponytail. "Make it quick. Sunny's waiting for me." "Trudy told me where the men who shot me were headed." Amata knew where this was going. "Mark, I'm gonna stop you right there. You're not going after them." Mark sighed and walked into the bedroom. He got his BB-gun off a shelf, sat down on the bed, and stared at it. Amata stood in the doorway. "Before I woke up from my coma, I was talking to my parents. My dad told me that my work wasn't done. I think this is what he was talking to me about." "Mark," said Amata, "I don't know if you realize this, but you already have a job. You're a courier now, and in eight months, you're going to be a father. That was probably what he was talking about."

"Amata, when I left the vault the first time. I didn't ask to do all the things that I did. I didn't want to fight raiders, or super mutants, or corrupt paramilitary organizations. I didn't want to become some mythic figure that people spoke about in hushed whispers. A lot of that stuff I did, I did because I felt like I was supposed to be doing it. I don't know how to explain it. I kind of felt like…like it was my destiny. I'm getting that same feeling again." Amata stared at him for what felt like forever.

"You know," she said as she sat down next to him, "I think I felt something like that when I left the vault to come find you. So if you feel that you need to do this, go ahead, but I'm coming with you. Before you say no, let me tell you this: those assholes almost deprived our unborn child of a father, so I would be lying if I said that I wouldn't want a crack at them. I'm not staying here, worrying about if you're coming back or not. I did that when you left the vault the first time. I have no desire to do that again. We either do this together, or it isn't gonna happen at all." Mark put the gun down on the bed and looked into her eyes. Mark could see a fire in them. "You know," said Mark, "I think it's hot when you talk like that." She chuckled, shook her head, and said, "look out Mojave, the Lone Wanderer is about to take you by storm." "So is his pregnant, hormonally imbalanced girlfriend," Mark added.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. You know, something always bothered me about the storyline of New Vegas. If the courier was ambushed, and had no idea who these guys were, why would Benny not just knock him out, take the chip and run? I don't know, maybe it's just me. Anyway, please review. Merry Christmas.**


	10. Chapter 10: The Wanderer Walks Again

**Author's Note: I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and a happy holiday season. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews, as always, are welcome.**

(The next day)

"Why are we not going that way?" asked Amata. "What did you say?" Mark asked in reply. "Well, this sign says that Vegas is this way," she said, pointing to the left. "That's where they were headed, right? This way seems quicker." Mark and Amata were a mile outside Goodsprings, standing in front of a sign. They had decided to use the day before to get ready to leave. In reality, Amata let Mark gather all the supplies that they would need, since he had more experience in this type of situation. While Amata went on patrol with Sunny, Mark had purchased any supplies they would need. That included medical supplies from Doc Mitchell, water from Trudy, and ammo and other miscellaneous supplies from Chet. They had told everyone in town that they were going on vacation.

They left at 9 am, and it was approaching 9:30 as they stopped at the sign. Mark was outfitted in his green combat armor, his assault rifle if his hands and his 10 mm pistol on his right hip. He also had a duffel bag swung over his left shoulder. Amata was wearing her leather armor, and had a hunting rifle in her hands, with a similar 10 mm pistol on her hip and duffel bag similar to Mark's. The sign they were standing in front of was a green pre-war road sign. It read, from top to bottom, "Jean," with an arrow pointing ahead, "Primm," with an arrow pointing to the right, and "Las Vegas," with an arrow pointing to the left.

"Amata, what did I tell you not twenty minutes ago? We're not going that way," Mark said, pointing left, "because there is a nest of deathclaws in that direction. Sure, I killed a few in DC, but they were all one-on-one situations. To take out that many, we would need a lot heavier ordinance than we're carrying. Also, I try to avoid getting ripped to shreds if I can help it. So we're going this way," he said pointing to the right. "I've been this way before. It is a bit longer, but it also a hell of a lot safer." "Sorry. I forgot. You don't have to be a jerk about it."

They started to walk towards Primm. "Amata, I'm not trying to be a jerk. I'm just trying to keep us both safe. Oh, and another thing, if we come across a dicey situation, and I tell you to run and hide, I need you to do it, no questions asked." Amata seemed to get annoyed. "Why? Is it because I'm pregnant? Look, Mark, I'm not some damsel in distress that can't fight and needs to be rescued." "Look, I'm not saying that you have no ability to fight. In fact, I'm very pleased with the progress you've made since we've come out here. All I'm saying is that the worst thing you killed was a couple Powder Gangers, and as far as I'm concerned, they are just raiders wearing better clothes, and just as stupid. If they were smart, they would've realized they were walking into a kill zone." "Whatever," she said, turning her back to him and walking towards Primm.

They continued on their way to Primm in silence, seeing a few small geckos that paid them no mind. Mark led the way, since he knew the way. Amata wasn't paying attention when she bumped into Mark, who had stopped for some reason. Amata stumbled a bit, but regained her balance. "Hey, why'd we stop?" she asked. He turned to her and put his finger to his mouth. "Why are you mmph-" She didn't get to finish because Mark had covered her mouth with his hand and dragged her behind a nearby group of rocks. "What the hell?" "First of all," Mark said in a whisper, "quiet. Secondly, look over there." Mark pointed over the rocks and Amata peeked over to see what was going on.

It looked like a couple of Powder Gangers had made camp near an old RV about thirty yards away from them. She came back down before they noticed her. "Ok," she said, "what do we do? Kill them? Like the ones in Goodsprings?" "No," said Mark. "We only killed them because they were threatening the town. These rocks should give us enough cover so that we can sneak past them. I don't do random murder just for the hell of it, even if they are criminals. Let's go." They crouched low and started walking. They made it about twenty feet before Amata sneezed loudly. Mark turned around and gave her a death glare. "Sorry," she said with a sheepish grin. They looked over the rocks. The Powder Gangers had gotten up and were heading in their direction.

Options went through Mark's head, when he settled on one, which could also serve as a teachable moment for Amata. "Ok, here's the plan." he said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a fragmentation grenade. "They're walking close together. I'm gonna toss this grenade between them. They'll likely dive in opposite directions. When they do, you take the one on the left, and I'll take the one on the right. Got it?" She nodded as she readied her rifle. "Fire in the hole." He threw the grenade over the rocks, and just as he predicted, they scattered in opposite directions. Mark put three in the chest of the one he was aiming for. Amata's first shot missed, but her second shot went through the neck of the powder ganger she was aiming for. He started clutching at his throat, but he died shortly thereafter. When they believed that it was safe, they came out from behind the rocks. Once they were sure they were dead, Mark turned to Amata.

"See? What did I tell you? Stupid as hell." "What?" "First of all, they kept their guns by their sides. They should have kept them at the ready. Also, they should have fanned out. Walking so close together just made them an easier target. Come on. We've wasted enough time with these idiots. Check their pockets and their campsite. Grab any supplies, and let's get going." She raised an eyebrow at him. "What? They're not gonna need any of it." Once they searched the camp for any usable supplies, they continued on to Primm.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time.**


	11. Chapter 11: Hot on the Trail

**Author's Note: To user BenRG, thanks for the reviews, but I've never seen any Star Wars movies, so I'll just have to take your word for it. To all of you, enjoy the chapter, and please review.**

An hour later, as they approached Primm, Amata stood in awe of the giant roller coaster. "Wow," she said as she stopped to look at it, "I've only seen those in the movies back in the vault. Does it still work? I'd love to ride it." "Yeah,' said Mark sarcastically, "because the first thing they did when they established this place was not to get food or water, but to restore an old-world piece of recreation equipment. Of course it doesn't work. Come on, let's keep moving." "Mark, honey, I was joking." They walked for another couple of minutes, when a man called out to them. "Hey. Stop right there." Mark aimed his assault rifle at the voice, and Amata followed suit with her hunting rifle. The man raised his arms and said, "Lower your weapons. I'm with the NCR. I'm not here to hurt you." As the man approached them slowly, Mark got a better look at him. He was wearing light brown fatigues, with an armored chest plate with the letters "NCR" stenciled in the center. He was also wearing a tan hat with goggles on them.

Mark and Amata had learned about the NCR from the people of Goodsprings. They were a "country" based out of Shady Sands in California, with a government somewhat similar to the old-world United States. Mark lowered his weapon, and motioned for Amata to do the same. "What's the problem," asked Mark, "we're just going into Primm." "Sorry," said the man, "but Primm is off-limits." "Since when?" asked Mark. "I didn't think that the NCR had jurisdiction in Primm." "We don't, but a there was a prison break from the NCR Correctional Facility, and some of the convicts have taken over the town. All of the citizens are either dead or hiding in the Vikki and Vance Casino. The NCR is here to contain the situation, so no one in or out."

"Look," said Mark, "let me speak to your commanding officer. I assume he's somewhere nearby?" The man nodded. "Good. Tell him a couple of couriers wish to speak with him about getting into Primm. This way, you can still say you followed orders, ok?" The man took out a walkie-talkie and spoke to someone. "OK. Lieutenant Hayes' tent is on the other side of the overpass. Just stay on the right side of the overpass, unless you want to get shot." As Mark and Amata walked towards the tents, Amata asked "how did you know to as for his commanding officer?" "I saw it with some of the Brotherhood initiates. They're told to follow orders, even if they disagree with them. If they're given orders by their CO, they'll follow them, no questions asked. Plus it saves us from having a useless argument that'll go nowhere with someone who has no authority."

"I'm Lieutenant Hayes of the New California Republic, Fifth Battalion, First Company. I assume you are the two people I was radioed about?" Lieutenant Hayes was wearing similar armor to the man they had met before, the only difference was that this man was wearing a green beret, with a two-headed bear, the symbol of the NCR, pinned to it. "Lieutenant," Mark said as he shook his hand, "My name is Mark Franklin, and this Amata Almodovar." "Nice to meet you both," he said as he shook Amata's hand as well. "Now, what's your business in Primm?" "We're looking for the man who shot me, and a lead led us here. I need to go to the Mojave Express outpost in town, find out what I can, and then leave. It'll take us twenty minutes, max. That's all I ask."

"Sorry," the Lieutenant said, "but I'm afraid I can't allow that. The situation is too dangerous." 'Maybe for you,' Mark thought. He sighed. "Look, if we promise to help clear out the convicts, then will you let us in?" "Sorry. I have my orders. No one in or out." Mark rubbed his temple. He was getting tired of the "orders" excuse. He was about to speak again when Amata started to cry. "P-pl-please, I'm pregnant and the m-man we're looking f-for almost k-k-k-killed him. We-we just want to know where he went." Lieutenant Hayes looked extremely uncomfortable. "Ok, ok, ok," Hayes said. "You clear out the convicts, you can have as long as you need, ok?" "Thank you," Mark said as he led Amata out of the tent. As soon as they were out of earshot, Amata perked up and gave him a grin. "Wait, you weren't really crying?" "Hey, you have your ways of getting things done, and I have mine." Mark kissed her. "I love you so much." "I know," Amata said.

They walked into town, and saw that it was deserted. They approached the Mojave Express office. Mark saw a couple of Powder Gangers down at the other end of the street that separated the Bison Steve Hotel and the Vikki and Vance Casino. Mark pulled Amata into the office and shut the door before they were noticed. The office was dark, so Mark flipped a switch on the wall. The lights flickered for a second, before they stayed on. The office was nothing special, with a counter right as they entered, a Mojave Express drop box to their immediate left, and what looked like a living area in the back. As Amata looked around for clues, Mark saw something on the counter that made him freeze, something that he hadn't seen since DC. He saw what reminded him of an Enclave eyebot. He was fresh out of the vault when he saw one floating near Springvale. He heard it playing some kind of patriotic music, but he didn't know what it was at the time, so he avoided it. He later learned that "President" Eden used them to broadcast his "we will revive America" BS.

Amata had joined his side and asked "what is that thing?" "Remember when I told you about those eyebots that floated around DC? This is one of them, only this one looks to be a little roughed up." It looked like someone had patched it up with an old-world license plate. Most of the letters had faded away, leaving the letters "ED-E" visible. Mark started to think. He remembered the damage that these things could do, remembering how it turned a raider to ash. "Mark, you look like you have an idea. You want to let me in on it?" Mark grabbed a nearby stool, some tools that were behind the counter, and started to tinker. "Here's my idea…"

As it turns out, it was not that difficult to repair. He just needed to rearrange some wires and had to create a makeshift patch for another hole that was left unpatched. It also proved a useful distraction for the Powder Gangers on the street. Apparently they had never seen a flying robot before, because while they were staring at it, Mark and Amata put them down easily. They were now in the Vikki and Vance casino, and Mark was speaking to Johnson Nash, the man who ran the Mojave Express outpost, about the delivery order for the chip Mark was supposed to deliver. "Oh yeah," said Nash as he read the order. "This was one of those orders. Seemed real strange, but we couldn't turn down the caps." "What was so strange about it?" asked Amata. "A cowboy robot hired us to deliver six novelty items to Vegas. Looks like the payment was received for the other five items." "What did the robot look like?" asked Mark. "It was one of those securitrons with a cowboy face on it." Mark and Amata looked at each other, both thinking the same thing: Victor.

"Anyway," said Mark, "I'm looking for the man who shot me. Wore a checkered suit, traveling with some Khans. Have you seen them?" "Can't say I have. You might want to check with Deputy Beagle." "Ok, where is he?" "The Powder Gangers have him held hostage in the Bison Steve across the street." 'Of course they did,' Mark thought. "Alright ED-E," he said to the robot, "let's go get Mr. Beagle." Mark started to walk away when Amata grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. "Aren't you forgetting someone?" "Amata, I need you here to stay here and stand guard. I'll be fine. I need you to trust me, ok?" Amata crossed her arms and stared at him for a few seconds. "Fine, but if you die, I'll kill you, ok?"

Mark and ED-E made their way across the street, and Mark opened the door slowly. The lobby was dirty and musty, and there was a guard sitting behind a couple of overturned tables, sleeping. "Ok, ED-E, we need to do this quietly-" He was cut off by loud marching music blaring from ED-E's speaker. It startled the guard, who fumbled for his gun, but by the time he could, ED-E started firing lasers, one of which hit the guard, who dissolved into ash. Mark could hear more guards coming. "Well, so much for quiet," Mark said. He tossed a grenade around the corner, checked the corner, and started firing.

After a few minutes of firing, including an exploding flamer tank, all of the convicts were dead, and Mark found the man who must Deputy Beagle kneeling in the kitchen with his hands bound. "Are you Deputy Beagle?" Mark asked. The man had messy blonde hair and was wearing leather armor. "Why, yes I am. I don't suppose you're here to rescue me, are you?" "Oh, I am. I also hear you have some information on someone who came through here recently. A man in a checkered suit, who was traveling with a couple of Khans." "Yes, I do, and I would be happy to share that information, as soon as I am released from my bondage." Mark took out the trench knife holstered to his leg, and kneeled down to face him.

"Ok. I'll release you. Just let me make one thing clear. If you try to run, and by some miracle, get away from me, my girlfriend is waiting across the street. I can just call her on my pip-boy, and have her grab you. I'll let you in on a little secret. She's pregnant, so she has a bunch of crazy hormones running through her body right now. I never know how she's going to be emotionally. If she catches you, you're probably gonna wish you were dealing with me, because she was not particularly happy that I was shot by this man. Understand?" "Yes, sir, yes I do." "Good," said Mark as he cut the rope.

After getting the information and collecting Amata, they went back to the NCR outpost outside of town. "Seriously? All of them?" Lieutenant Hayes was shocked. "Yep. All of them," said Mark. "Wow. Here, let me give you some caps for your trouble." He pulled a small sack out of a duffel bag on the ground nearby. "There's a 150 caps in there. It's the least I can do." "Thank you, Lieutenant. Have a nice day," Mark said.

 **Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. The action is going to start picking up from here. Until next time.**


	12. Chapter 12: A Rose by any other name

**Author's Note: Hello everyone. I hope all is well. In the last chapter we got our first new companion, ED-E, and we just might get a new one this chapter. Enjoy, and please review.**

After the events in Primm, Mark and Amata set off for their next destination. According to Deputy Beagle, the men were heading to meet a contact in Novac, and the quickest way to get there was through Nipton. However, Mark suggested that they head to the NCR's Mojave Outpost to rest and get some supplies. They were on their way, and Amata seemed to take a liking to ED-E. "I think he's kind of cute," she said to Mark as they were walking. ED-E, who was floating in between the two of them, beeped in approval and nuzzled himself into her chest. "Aww, who's a good boy, who's a good boy, you are," she said as she stopped and petted him. "Amata, he's not a dog. He's a piece of military hardware." "Hey," she said, pointing a finger at him, "I read about house pets from before the war, and I've always wanted one, and this is as close as I'm probably going to get, so lay off."

Mark looked at her and saw that big smile on her face that he loved so much, so he smiled, shook his head, and decided to let it go. "Alright, let's keep moving." By the time they arrived at the Mojave Outpost, the sun was beginning to set. They stopped to rest a couple of times, because, while Mark was used to walking long distances, Amata was not, and had yet to build up the necessary endurance. "Hey," said Amata, "you've been here before. What're those two statues of?" pointing to the monument of two men shaking hands. "It's supposed to represent unification or something. I wasn't really interested enough to get the full story. There's a plaque right there in front of it if you want to know." She walked up to it and read:

" _In the year 2271, the Desert Rangers of Nevada and rangers of the New California Republic met at this spot to sign the Ranger Unification Treaty. Under this treaty, the Desert Rangers agreed to be absorbed into the NCR in exchange for NCR's protection of Hoover Dam, New Vegas, and southern Nevada against the forces of Caesar's Legion."_

"Caesar's Legion? You've mentioned them before, right? You said they were slavers or something, right?" asked Amata. "That's basically what it boils down to," said Mark. "Their culture is based off of ancient Rome, and their leader thinks he's the son of a god. In essence, yes, they are slavers. Anyway, there's a bar over there. Why don't you go in and rest and get some water. I need to check with the quartermaster about getting some more ammo and supplies." Amata walked into the bar, and the first thing she noticed were the posters lining the walls. They reminded her of pre-war propaganda posters. She read one that said "What I know- I keep to myself. Careless talk costs lives." There was a picture of someone wearing goggles and some kind of face wrap in the middle. She read a couple of others, and then decided to sit down at the bar.

When she sat down, she noticed that there was only one other person at the bar. She was wearing a brown suede jacket, a plaid pink and white button-up shirt, and black gloves on her hands. She had fiery red hair that was tucked under a brown cowboy hat, a pair of jeans with holes in the knees. She also had a shotgun slung across her back. The bartender came up to Amata and asked her what she wanted. "Um, just water please, thank you." The bartender grabbed a bottle and put it in front of Amata, who promptly paid for it. The bartender walked away, when the other woman spoke to Amata. "Oh, c'mon, yer in a bar and all ya get is water?" "Yeah, I can't really drink right now. Although I can see you don't have that problem, with the way you're downing that bottle of whiskey." When Amata came in, she had noticed the bottle was nearly full, and now it was almost empty.

The woman grinned at Amata. "Ah, me an' whiskey are ol' friends. Keeps me goin', 'specially when times get rough, like now." "Why, what happened?" Amata asked sympathetically. The woman frowned as she started to talk. "Lost ma caravan heading north, near Vegas. The driver was burnt ta ash. Assholes didn't even take tha cargo. They just burned that, too. Y'know," she said after a pause, "yer tha first person ta ask me about that. Name's Rose of Sharon Cassidy, by the way, but ya can just call me Cass." "Well, Cass, my name's Amata Almodovar. So, if your caravan was destroyed, what are you doing here?" Cass went to take a swig of the whiskey, only to realize that it was empty, and set it back down. "I…I dunno. For a while, I was here 'cause of ma papers. I still technically owned Cassidy Caravans, even though it was nothing but ash. Then a few days ago, someone from tha Crimson Caravan Company comes with an offer ta buy it. At first I told him ta fuck off, but the offer had a lot a zeroes, an' everyone knows Alice McLafferty is good fer it. My pa would be spinnin' in his grave if he knew I sold our name. Now I'm just here 'cause I got nowhere else ta go. That's my story, so why are ya here?"

"Well," said Amata, "my boyfriend and I-" She stopped because Mark had come in and sat down next to her. "The ammo and supplies will be ready in a few hours, so I figured we could just stay here tonight and start fresh in the morning. I figure we could both use a rest." "That's fine with me," Amata said. "Oh, Mark, this is Cass. Cass, this is my boyfriend, Mark Franklin." "Nice to meet you, Cass." Cass tipped her hat. "How'd ya two meet?" Cass asked. Mark spoke up. "We actually grew up together in a vault back in DC." "Well, ain't that interesting," Cass said. "Y'know, I heard a rumor going around about some Brotherhood folks came out west a few months ago. Rumors are going around about some kid that came out if a vault in DC. They said he slayed super mutants into extinction and created some machine that magically purified water an' a bunch of other crap like that." Amata choked on her water, but Cass paid her no attention. "What'd they call him again?" Cass said as she snapped her fingers, trying to remember. "Oh yeah, they called him tha "Lone Walker." That's it." Mark looked at Amata, who just shrugged her shoulders. Mark turned back to Cass and tried to wave it off. "Yeah, we've heard the stories. Half of it sounds like made up nonsense to me."

"Come on Amata, we should get some rest. There are some beds in the back we can use. I think we've both had a long day." "Where are ya two headed, anyway?" "We're trying to track down a man who shot me in the head twice and took a package I was supposed to deliver. He's headed towards Vegas, so we're headed that way." Cass seemed to have trouble comprehending what Mark told her. "Ya got shot twice, in tha head, and lived. Are ya messin' with me?" "No messing," Mark said. "How do you think I got this scar?" he said, pointing to his face. "Damn. Yer one lucky SOB."

Amata and Mark got up from the bar, and Amata noticed Cass was just staring absentmindedly at the empty bottle of whiskey. Then Amata said something that surprised even herself. "Hey, Cass, why don't you come with us?" Mark and Cass both stared at her. "You said it yourself. You're only here because you have nowhere else to go. We're heading towards Vegas, so maybe we could find your caravan and you could pay your respects." Cass was silent for a minute. "Yeah, sure why tha fuck not. I need to get out a this shithole anyway. Ya two seem like nice people. Ya okay with me taggin' along, lover boy?" Amata stifled a laugh at that last comment. "Sure," said Mark, "why not? You can never have too much firepower. Alright Cass, we leave in the morning, ok?" "Fine with me," she said with a hopeful look on her face.

There were a bunch of bunk beds in the back of the bar. Mark and Amata slept on the bottom of one, and Cass slept on the bed above them. Mark woke up and looked at his pip-boy: 2:37 am. He also noticed that Amata was not next to him. He got up, rubbed his eyes, and looked around. With the aid of the moonlight, he saw that she wasn't in any of the other beds, and she wasn't at the bar. He checked outside, and saw her sitting at an old picnic table, looking at the stars. ED-E was buzzing around near her. Mark walked over and sat down next to her. "Hey, ED-E," Mark said, "can we get a minute?" He beeped and flew away towards the front of the outpost. "Are you alright, baby? When I woke up and didn't see you, I got worried." She turned to him. It looked like she had been crying. "Amata, are you alright?" She looked back at the stars. "Mark, I'm scared." "What are you scared of?" She put a hand on her stomach. "Having this baby. You know that I never knew my mother. I don't really know how I'm supposed to act. What if I mess up?"

"Hey," he said as he put an arm around her shoulders, "don't talk like that. You're gonna be a great mom. Plus, you don't think I'm scared about having a kid? I've done some scary shit, but having a kid tops the list." She turned back to him, and he wiped away a tear running down her left cheek. "Here I was thinking that the Lone Wanderer was fearless." Mark grinned at her. "No, people _thought_ that I was fearless. Truth is, I was scared out of my mind half the time. You try facing two super mutants with a pistol that only has one bullet and tell me you wouldn't be scared. Look, my point is, having a kid is new for the both of us. We probably will mess up. Like with anything else, we will have to learn from our mistakes. We will be fine." "You know," Amata said, "sometimes I forget how smart you are." "Hey, I almost left you back in DC. That would've been pretty dumb of me. Now come on, we need to get some sleep."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time.**


	13. Chapter 13: Outfoxed

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is enjoying the story thus far. The caravan is growing, with the addition of everyone's favorite drinkin' cowgirl, Cass. Enjoy the chapter, and, as always, please review.**

(The next day)

Mark, Amata and ED-E were all ready to leave around 8 am, although it took some prodding to wake Cass up from her stupor. Once she got up (and re-stocked on some whiskey), they started to walk away from the outpost, when they heard a shrill whistle. They looked around, but didn't see anyone. "Up here," came a voice from the roof. Mark looked up, and saw a NCR Ranger up on the roof of the barracks, motioning for him to come up. "Who's that?" Mark whispered to Cass. "They call her 'Ghost.' NCR an' their goddamn nicknames. Like that's gonna stop Caesar from tryin' ta take tha dam again." "All right," said Mark, "gimme a minute, I'll go see what she wants." Mark walked up a makeshift ramp and found himself on the roof of the barracks. There was a sandbag wall, an old lawn chair, and a table with a bottle of water and a ham radio.

The woman who called him up was wearing sunglasses, a cowboy hat and an NCR Ranger uniform. Mark also noticed she had pale white skin, a condition he had read about in the vault called 'albinism.' Mark suspected that this was why they called her 'Ghost.' She was also carrying a high-powered sniper rifle and a pair of binoculars. "Can I, uh, help you with something?" asked Mark. "Hey there," the woman said, sticking out her hand, "name's Ghost." "Mark Franklin," Mark said as he shook her hand. "Well, Mr. Franklin, I was hoping you could help me out with something. You're heading towards Vegas, right?" "Please, just call me Mark. Also, how did you know?" "I overheard you in the bar last night. Anyway, I doubt you're going through Quarry Junction, so you must be going up 95, correct?" Mark nodded. "Well, the route you're taking goes past Nipton, and that's where you come in. There's been no traffic in or out of the town for days. That I can explain away, but now I'm starting to see smoke. Take a look, due east."

Mark took her binoculars and looked in the direction she pointed out. He could see a few buildings, and he could also see the smoke that she had mentioned. He gave Ghost the binoculars, and asked, "Ok, so what do you want me to do?" "I just need to know what happened. Could be Vipers, Jackals, Powder Gangers, or who knows what else. If there are any survivors, they'd be in the town hall. Don't try and be a hero. I don't need you or anyone in your party risking their lives." "Ok, I have a question." said Mark, "Shouldn't this be something that NCR troops should be checking out, instead of some guy you just met?" She sighed. "Normally, yes, but we have to maintain a minimum head count here at the outpost. Orders from the west."

"Look, Ranger, I'm kind of on a time-sensitive mission right now, so I don't have time to go there and back. However," Mark said, looking at the ham radio, "I modified my pip-boy so that I could keep in contact with my girlfriend. If you give me the frequency of your radio, I could just call you and tell you what I see. Would that suffice?" She mulled it over for a few seconds. "Yeah, I suppose that would be fine. Appreciate the help, kid." "What did she want, Mark?" Amata asked as he made his way back towards the group. "She just wants us to see what's going on in Nipton. We'll be heading through there anyway, so it won't be taking us out of our way."

A couple of miles into their journey, they ran into a couple of Vipers, which they were able to dispatch without much trouble. After that, Mark decided that he and ED-E would scout out ahead, just in case. That left Cass and Amata walking about 30 yards behind them. Once they got going again, Cass took out her flask, took a swig, and offered some to Amata, who refused. "Oh come on, ya wouldn't drink with me yesterday, and now yer turnin' me down again. Yer startin' ta hurt my feelings," Cass said jokingly. "Look, it's nothing personal, but like I told you yesterday, I can't drink right now." "What, are ya pregnant or somethin'?" Amata blushed and looked at her feet. "Oh my god, lover boy knocked ya up, didn't he?" Cass said with a grin on her face. "Wait, it is his, right? Does he even know yer pregnant?" "Yes, it is his, and yes, he knows, and we're both very excited." The next few minutes were spent in silence. "So," said Cass, "what's he like in tha sack?"

They arrived at Nipton around one, and Mark could tell that something was wrong. The first thing he noticed was two red flags with a golden bull in the middle flowing on staffs just outside town. The second thing he noticed was a kid wearing a Powder Gangers outfit running straight towards them with his arms raised in the air, screaming in a celebratory fashion. All four of them readied their weapons, but the kid just ran straight past them and into the desert. They all watched him for a minute, looking confused. Cass spoke up. "Um, anyone know what the fuck that was about?" "I think," Amata said, "I think he said something about winning some lottery, maybe?" "It's not important," said Mark. "We just came here to see what's going on."

As they ventured into town, Mark's bad feeling was confirmed. They saw a pile of tires on fire in the center of town, with a couple of severely burned corpses. Mark was examining them when he heard Amata scream. Mark and Cass ran over in her direction, guns at the ready. "Amata, what's the matter?" Mark asked. Amata raised a trembling finger and pointed a few feet in front of her. Mark looked to where she was pointing and saw a Powder Ganger crucified on a cross. They looked around and saw other people who were also crucified, including what looked like regular people. "Mark," Amata said, "should we- should we get them down?" "No point," Cass said. "Look at their wrists." They looked and saw what looked like railroad spikes driven through their wrists. "She's right," Mark said, "we can't do anything for them."

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

Almost instinctively, Mark stepped in front of Amata and pointed his assault rifle in the direction of the voice. Cass stepped beside him, shotgun at the ready, and he could hear ED-E priming his laser. The speaker stood on the steps of the town hall, flanked on either side by dogs and men wearing red and black sports equipment for armor, with leather skirts and sandals. The speaker stepped forward, and Mark noticed that he was wearing sports equipment like the rest, but he was also wearing a red cape, black sunglasses, and was wearing a dog's head like a hat. "There's no need for that now is there," he said in a voice so cold it sent shivers down all of their spines. "My forces outnumber you five to one." He spread his arms, and the three of them looked around, noticing that there were at least two or more soldiers on each of the rooftops, pointing rifles at them. "Lower your weapons," the man continued, "and you will have no reason to worry. I won't have you lashed to a cross like these degenerates."

Mark thought about it, considered his options, then put his assault rifle on the ground. "What the fuck are ya doin'?" Cass hissed at him through her teeth. "I really don't feel like getting shot again, and I definitely don't want her getting shot," he said thumbing towards Amata behind him. "ED-E, stand down." Mark heard disappointed beeps, and a laser powering down. Cass didn't like it, but she put down her shotgun as well. "It is useful that you happened by," the man said. "I want you to witness the fate of the town of Nipton. Memorize every detail. Remember the horrors we have inflicted here. Then, when you move on? I want you three to teach everyone the lessons that Caesar's (he pronounced it Kai-zar) Legion has taught here." Mark spoke. "Who are you exactly?" "I am Vulpes Inculta, commander of Caesar's Frumentarii. We specialize in infiltration, striking out from the shadows against all who oppose Caesar's will."

"What 'lessons' did you teach here?" Amata asked with anger in her voice, stepping out from behind Mark. Mark moved back in front of her. "Where to begin? That they are weak, and we are strong? That much was known already. Nipton was a wicked place, debased and corrupt. It served all comers, as long as they paid. Profligate troops, Powder Gangers, men of the Legion such as myself, the people here didn't care. For a pittance, the town agreed to lead those it sheltered into a trap. Only when I sprang it did they realize they were caught in it, too." "You captured everyone?" Mark asked, his blood beginning to boil. "Yes. Everyone was herded into the center of town, which is where I announced the lottery. Each clutched their ticket, hoping it would set them free. Each did nothing, even as their 'loved ones' were dragged to their fate. They outnumbered us, yet did nothing to resist. Their leader was burned on a pile of tires.

"You know," Mark said with unfiltered rage, "back east, I dealt with another group who murdered people just for the hell of it. You could talk to them about it… oh wait, that's right, they don't exist anymore." The man just stood there and smiled. "If you feel that strongly about it, then attack us, and soon you won't feel anything. Until we meet again, I bid you _Vale._ " The air around the legion troops crackled, and they all disappeared. They were using stealth boys, pre-war devices that made the user practically invisible. After a few minutes of silence, Mark brought his pip-boy up to his mouth and pressed a button. "Ranger Ghost, come in." There was static for a few seconds, then a response: "Ghost here. Go ahead kid. What'd you find?" "Yeah, about that…"

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I know that the kid running out of Nipton talks to you, but I didn't feel that it really added anything to the story, other than just seeming weird. Until next time.**


	14. Chapter 14: Yin and Yang

**Author's Note: Hope everyone is doing well. Enjoy the chapter, and as always, reviews are welcome.**

After informing Ranger Ghost about the Legion's presence in Nipton ("Legion?! Are you fucking kidding me?!"), the four of them found an old shack a few miles outside of Nipton where they could decompress after what they had just witnessed. The inside was dirty, with a stove, a bed and a fridge. ED-E stayed outside, as did Cass, who said she needed to think. Mark and Amata sat down on the bed. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. Something about what had happened bothered Mark. He had seen people strung up before. Mostly it was raiders who had put people up on meat hooks, but they were high most of the time and had no idea what the hell they were doing. What the Legion had done, they were well aware of what they were doing and seemed to enjoy doing it.

Mark shook it off and took some mutfruit and water out of his bag and handed them to Amata. "You hungry?" She was staring into space and didn't notice them at first. He nudged her a bit, and that seemed to bring her out of it. "Sorry, what'd you say?" He held out the mutfruit and water again. "Food, water, take them." She took them and took a bite out of the mutfruit. Mark ran his hand through her hair. "Amata, are you okay?" "I…umm…" she said, trying to find the words. "You're wondering how people can be so cruel, right?" "How did you know?" Mark sighed.

"I've had that same look on my face before. Amata, I'm not gonna lie to you. There are some cruel, evil people in this world, and you will never know why. I've told you what I saw in DC. You know that not everyone is like that, though. There are still good people in the world. Sunny, Doc Mitchell, Trudy, they're good people. Chet was a bit of a dick, but I digress. You know, I remember a quote from a book I read in the vault once. It said something like: "The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is that good men do nothing." You see, an evil man only fights because he wants something. Land, technology, whatever. A good man fights because he wants to protect his home and the people he loves. That's why good will always win, because the good man knows he has more to lose if he fails."

She took a sip of water. "It's just…when I was listening to the radio in the vault, when Three Dog told us about all that stuff that you did, half the time I was wondering how you didn't die. It seemed like you tried to fix everyone's problems. Like when you blew up the Enclave's base at that old air force base, you yourself told me you were in that vertibird for less than a minute before it was blown up. With all the evil that exists in the world, and with all the close calls you seem to have, I'm afraid that one day you're going to go off on some adventure and never come back." Mark put his arm around her and pulled her close. "Hey, look at me." She turned to look at him. "I will always come back." "Mark, you can't possibly know that. You're only human." "Eh, maybe. Then again, I am the Lone Wanderer. I have been known to do the impossible from time to time. Plus, I have a new reason to fight," he said as he put his hand on her stomach. A smile crossed her face. "There we go. That's what I like to see." They started to kiss, and they didn't notice when Cass opened the door. She coughed to get their attention. They stopped kissing and looked at her. "Ya guys ready ta go, or do ya need a few minutes ta bang?" Amata blushed, got up, and got her bag. Mark got up and got his bag as well. "Yeah," Mark said, "we're ready."

By the time they reached Novac, it was close to 8 pm. The town wasn't much. It was mainly and old motel from before the war. The town got its name from a "no vacancy" sign, with the last few letters having fallen off. There was an old gas station directly across the street, and next to that was a makeshift clinic and a makeshift diner. There were also a few houses a little way down the road. The only thing worth noting was the giant t-rex holding a thermometer.

"What is it with people and giant statues around here?" asked Amata. "I don't know," said Mark, "maybe it's-." He stopped mid- sentence when he saw a very familiar looking securitron. "Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit. If it isn't my friends from Goodsprings." "Who the hell is that?" Cass whispered to Mark. "This is Victor," he whispered back. "He was the one who found me when I was shot." Amata spoke up. "What are you doing here, Victor?" "Don't rightly know," he said, "Just got the feeling to head to Vegas. Guess I'll find out why when I get there." "Uh-huh," said Mark. He started to see Victor in a bit of a different light once they found out it was him who had set up the delivery that got him shot. "Good night, Victor," said Mark. "Happy trails, partner."

The four of them entered the lobby. The lobby had peeling white wallpaper, a tile floor with a few tiles missing, and the ceiling had a few chunks of plaster missing. There was also a Sunset Sarsaparilla vending machine, a Mojave Express drop box, and a radio playing some music. Sitting at the counter was a middle-aged woman, with grey hair sitting in a bun. She had a long, thin nose and a pair of black horn-rimmed glasses that made her eyes look twice the normal size. "Well, welcome to the Dino Dee-Lite Motel. You all look tired from the road. Why don't you relax, and let this town take care of you? Oh, but where are my manners? I'm Jeannie May Crawford. I run the motel." "Hi," said Mark, "we'd like to rent a couple of rooms." "Well, I think that's wonderful. I'll give you a flat rate, and you can stay as long as you like. Sound good?" Mark nodded. "Excellent. That'll be twenty caps a night for each room." Mark took out his caps, counted forty of them, and handed them to her. She gave him two keys. "Your rooms are upstairs, closest to the lobby. Just let me know if there's anything else I can do for you folks." Mark turned around and gave one key to Cass and the other to Amata. "You guys head up. Amata, I'll be up in a minute." "Ok," said Amata, "just don't take too long."

Cass and Amata walked outside, and ED-E stayed with Mark. "Ya know," said Cass, "yer boyfriend didn't have ta pay for ma room. I still got plenty of caps from selling ma caravan." Amata waved it off. "Ah, it's nothing. We're not hurting for caps. It's our pleasure." Cass took a swig out of her flask. "Damn. You've got a nice, good looking, smart boyfriend who ain't too stingy with tha caps. Ya bagged yerself a winner, honey. Between yers and his genes, that baby is gonna be somethin' special." Amata grinned as she unlocked the door to her room. "Goodnight, Cass." "G'night, 'Mata."

 **Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. I hope I didn't get too philosophical for anyone in the third paragraph. I just thought it helped with Mark explaining the whole 'evil people' thing. Until next time.**


	15. Chapter 15: Missions Intersect

**Author's note: To user vampwalker709, in regards to your comments on chapter 5, I'm not saying that he couldn't have taken them all on by himself, but having a little extra firepower never hurt anyone. To all of you, enjoy the chapter, and keep those reviews coming.**

Amata walked into the room and shut the door. She flipped the light switch next to the door. The lights flickered for a second, and then stayed on, illuminating the room. The room had a queen-sized bed, with a white mattress cover, an olive green blanket, and a couple of pillows. There was a dresser, a (useless) television, and a side table on either side of the bed. She put her bag on the bed, and went into the bathroom. There was a sink, a cracked mirror, a dirty toilet, and a tub. She turned one of the handles in the tub to see if it still worked. The water came out brown at first, but started to clear up.

She heard the Geiger counter on her pip-boy clicking, and she looked at it. The water was slightly irradiated, so she turned it off. She wasn't sure how, if at all, the radiation might affect the baby, so she didn't want to risk it. She then went to the mirror and turned sideways. She lifted up her shirt, revealing her stomach. She looked at her stomach in the mirror. There was definitely a slight bulge there, even if it wasn't that noticeable yet. She went to sit on the bed to get a change of clothes out of her bag.

While she was rummaging, she found a picture of herself and her father. She was ten years old in the picture, and had just gotten her pip-boy. She had an ear-to-ear smile, and her short brown hair partially obscured her face. Her father was crouched next to her, smiling. It was one of the rare times she could remember him smiling. 'Wow,' she thought, 'this was only ten years ago. A lot certainly has changed since then.' She heard the door open, so she put the picture back in her bag. Mark walked in, shut the door, and put his bag on the ground.

"Hey," Amata said, "why'd you stay behind?" "I wanted to see if she knew anything about the guys who shot me." "And?" "They were here, but they left a few days ago. She said they seemed to know one of the snipers that guards the town, goes by the name of Manny. I just came to drop off my stuff, and now I'm gonna go talk to him." "Ok," said Amata, "but be careful. If these guys know him, he may be in league with them." "I'm always careful," said Mark. "Yeah, well, the scar on your face says otherwise." He leaned over to kiss her. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll be back in a few minutes. ED-E's outside the rooms, keeping watch."

Mark walked into the dinosaur that, in addition to serving as a sniper's nest, also housed a gift shop. There was an old, balding, black gentleman in the gift shop, who Mark assumed was the one who ran it. "Hey there," the man said, "name's Cliff Briscoe. Can I interest you in a Dinky the Dinosaur figurine? I still got a few in stock, if you're interested." "Umm…no thanks. I actually just came to talk to the sniper in the dinosaur's mouth." As Mark walked up the stairs, he thought he heard Cliff mutter something about no one ever wanting a t-rex.

Mark opened the door, and was greeted by a 9 mm pistol aimed at his head. Mark immediately raised his hands and said "whoa, whoa, whoa, don't shoot." "God dammit, don't do that," the man said as he lowered his pistol. "Who are you, and what the hell do you want?" Mark looked over the man. He wore a white t-shirt, camouflage pants, a pair of sunglasses that hid his eyes, and red beret. He screamed ex-military. "My name's Mark Franklin. Are you Manny?" "No." "Ok," said Mark, "my bad. I'll just be going." Mark started to turn around, when the man spoke. "Wait, you just got into town, right? Maybe you shouldn't go. Not just yet."

There was something in his voice that intrigued Mark, so he stayed. "Ok, what's up?" "This town…nobody looks me in the eye anymore. I need the kind of help I can only get from an outsider." "Alright, what do you need?" "I need you to find something for me. I don't know if there's anything to find, but I need someone to try. My wife was taken by Legion slavers one night while I was on duty. They knew when to come. Which route to take. They only took Carla. Only someone who lives here could know that. Someone set it up. I need you to find out who set it up."

"So you're trying to find your wife?" "My wife's dead. I want the son of a bitch who sold her." Mark wanted to ask how he knew she was dead, but he thought better of it. "Ok," Mark asked, "what do I do if and/or when I find this person?" "Bring them out in front of the nest while I'm on duty. I'll give you my beret to put on. It'll be our signal. I'll take care of the rest." Mark looked at him. He couldn't see his eyes, but he knew there must be pain in them. "Alright," said Mark, "you've got a deal." "Good. One more thing. We shouldn't speak again until this is over. No one knows that I know what happened to my wife. Best they never know, or the Legion will be after me next." Mark turned to leave, and as he opened the door, he turned around. "You got a name?" "Boone," was his reply.

As Mark walked outside, he looked at the room that Amata was in. His only encounter with the Legion was in Nipton, but he already knew he despised them. If they took her, he would not rest until he found her. Or, god forbid, if he couldn't find her, he would kill every single one of them, or die trying. He looked at the beret in his hands. It was red, and had a patch with a bear skull and two crossed rifles behind it. Above the skull it said "NCR 1st Recon," and below the skull it said, "The last thing you never see." He looked up and saw Jeannie May locking the door to the lobby. Mark thought it would be as good a place as any to start.

"Hey, uh, Jeannie, you got a second?" "Yes, dear, what can I do for you?" "What can you tell me about Boone's wife?" Mark noticed her tense up. "How should I put it?" she said. "She was kind of like a cactus flower. Real pretty to look at, but you couldn't get close to her. She liked the fast living of New Vegas. I got the feeling she was trying to get Boone to leave with her. I guess she just got tired of waiting. Now, if there's nothing else, I am quite tired. Goodnight, dear." As she walked away, alarm bells went off in Mark's head. She knew a lot more than she was letting on.

As Mark turned the corner of the motel, he bumped into an old man wearing brown rags, and he sported a messy, unshaven face and head. "Who sent you?" he said, "I ain't talkin'. They tried to get me to talk before, but I didn't say nothing then, and I ain't talkin' now." Mark got the sense he was crazy, and backed up, just in case. "Who tried to make you talk?" Mark asked. "Confound it, No-Bark, you let on that you know things. Now they'll come after you, like they came after that lady." Mark decided to pursue this. Even the craziest stories had some truth to them. "Are you talking about Boone's wife?" "I seen it all," he said. "Seen shadowy folk come into his room in the middle of the night. Thought one might've gone into the lobby for a spell. I thought it was cannibals, come to eat us all, but now I know better. It was mole rat men, come up from the underground to steal our women with the promises of riches and all the latest designer appliances. They covet their long hair for wigs because they're all bald themselves." "Thanks for the info, old timer." "If anyone asks, we never spoke."

As No-Bark walked away, Mark began to think. The thing about mole rats was nothing, but people going into Boone's room and the lobby the night Carla was taken, and Jeannie May hiding something, that matched up. So he decided to check the lobby. After picking the lock to the lobby, Mark went in, closed the door, and turned on the light on his pip-boy. In his travels, he discovered that if there was a safe in a place of business, it was probably right behind the counter. He looked behind the counter, and saw a safe in the floor. It was a combination lock, so he put his ear to the safe, and turned the dial until he heard the proper clicks. The safe popped open, and Mark looked inside. There were some caps, NCR bills, a .357 magnum, and a slip of paper. Mark brought the light up to it and read it. As he did, a smile crossed his face. "Got you, you pompous bitch."

Mark had barely put the beret on his head before Jeannie May's head exploded. When he got back to the sniper's nest, Boone asked him, "How'd you know?" He showed him the paper he found in the lobby. It was a bill of sale from the Legion, "selling" Carla and her unborn child. The fact that Carla was pregnant made Mark hate the Legion even more. "Should've known," said Boone, "it's just like them to keep paperwork." He crumpled up the paper and threw it away. Boone took a small bag of caps out of his pants pocket and gave them to Mark, but Mark refused. "Keep them. I had my own reasons for doing this." Boone looked at him questioningly, and then put the caps away. "Ok. I think our dealings are done here," Boone said. "So what are you gonna do now?" asked Mark. "Don't know. Don't see any point in staying here anymore. All I want to do now is hunt Legion." There was a silence between them. Mark could see that Boone was a man on a mission. After all, Mark was on a mission himself. "Goodnight, Boone." Boone turned and looked back over the desert. "Whatever your reason is for helping me…thanks."

When Mark got back to the room, the light was off, and he could hear Amata snoring softly. With the moonlight coming in, he could see she was sleeping on the side of the bed closest to the door, and she was facing the door. Mark took off his armor as quietly as he could, and got into bed with her, facing the same direction. He draped his arm around her and pulled her in close. Almost instinctively, she nestled in close to him. As he smelled her hair, he thought about her and the baby. "I will always come back," he whispered as softly as he could. He then drifted off into a restless sleep.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter.** **Until next time.**


	16. Chapter 16: The Hunt Continues

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is enjoying the story thus far. Enjoy the chapter, and please keep sending those reviews in.**

The sun shining through the window blinds woke up Mark the next morning. It took his eyes a moment to adjust, and when they did, he saw Amata lying next to him, staring at him, and smiling. Mark smiled back at her. "Do you, uh, do you always stare at me when I sleep, 'cause honestly, it's kind of creepy." "Mm, sometimes," she said. "I was just thinking." "Care to share?" asked Mark. "I was just thinking how lucky I am to have a great guy like you." "You know," said Mark, "that's funny. I was actually thinking the same exact thing." She playfully shoved him. "You're hilarious. Anyway, I didn't hear you come in last night. Did you talk to that sniper guy, uh, Manny, was it?"

Mark's thoughts drifted back to last night. "Uh, yeah, no, he wasn't on duty. I think he works during the day." Mark looked at his pip-boy: 9:01 am. "All right, let's go get some breakfast, and then I can try again." They got dressed, went outside, and knocked on the door to Cass' room. "Hey Cass," Mark said, "we're getting some breakfast. Want to join us?" There was no response, so he knocked again. "Cass, you alive in there?" They heard movement, and the door opened. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair was disheveled, and her hat, jacket and shotgun were nowhere to be found. She also reeked of whiskey. "Wha' ya wan?" "Well," said Mark, "I guess we know what you did last night. We're getting some breakfast, if you care to join." "Fuggov, I ne' sleep." She then proceeded to slam the door shut. "Okay," said Amata, "we'll see you later then."

They made their way to the makeshift restaurant to get some food. Mark had a couple of gecko eggs, while Amata had some fruit. "Okay," said Mark, "I'm gonna go try this again. ED-E, stay with her." ED-E beeped in the affirmative. Mark went back into the dinosaur, past the gift shop, and up the stairs. Just in case, he knocked on the door this time. "Come in," said a voice from behind the door. When Mark entered, he saw a Hispanic man, wearing a sleeveless leather vest over a red long sleeve shirt. He also had an ammo bandolier draped across his chest, and was wearing a red beret similar to Boone's. "What can I help you with, man?" he asked. "Are you Manny?" "Yup," he said. 'Wonderful,' thought Mark. "I was told you could help me find a man in a checkered coat. You know him?" Manny looked hesitant. "Yeah, I know him. What do you want with him?" "Well, for starters, he took something that I was supposed to deliver. Then he proceeded to shoot me and then left me for dead in a shallow grave. Where the hell is he?"

"Wait, are you talking about that chip? Man, I doubt he's gonna give that up." "Yeah, well, we'll see about that when I find him. Do you know where he was headed or not?" "Yeah," said Manny, "I know where he's going. What's in it for me if I tell you?" Mark grabbed him by the lapels and practically started yelling at him. "Listen, Manny, you see that woman sitting over near the tent in the leather armor?" Mark pointed at her and Manny looked. "Yeah, I see her." "You see, that's my girlfriend. I love her to death. You know what else? She's also pregnant with my child. That asshole shot, and very nearly killed me the same day that we found out. Those bullets put me in a coma for a week. She thought that I may never wake up. He almost deprived that child of having a father. You asked me what's in it for you? How about the good feeling you get from helping a young family get some god damn justice."

Mark let go of Manny and shoved him back slightly. Manny fixed his jacket and cleared his throat. "Okay, okay I'll tell you. Let's just say I can… sympathize with your situation. His name's Benny. He's head of the Chairmen, the group that runs the Tops Hotel in Vegas. He's travelling with a couple of guys from my old gang, the Great Khans. Their names are McMurphy and Jessup. They're headed to Boulder City. That's all I know, I swear." Mark smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "There now. Don't you feel all good inside? You have a nice day." "Yeah, you too," Manny said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Mark walked back to the tent and sat down next to Amata. "Hey, did you find out anything?" Amata asked. "Yeah. They were headed to Boulder City, so that's our next stop, once Cass sobers up." A few minutes later, Cass sat down next to them, looking a little better than she had before. "Feeling better?" Mark asked, as she downed a bottle of water. "Yeah, m'fine. Not tha firs' time I've had a hangover. So what's the plan for today, lover boy?" "They were headed towards Boulder City, so that's where we're headed." About an hour later, after Cass ate, everyone had their bags packed and they were ready to leave, when someone called out, "Franklin, wait." The three of them, plus ED-E, turned around and Mark saw that it was Boone. He had his rifle slung across his back, and he was carrying a camouflage duffel bag with NCR insignia on it.

"Uh, hey Boone, what's up?" "Can I talk to you in private for a minute?" Mark looked at Amata and Cass, who gave him confused looks. "Um, okay." They walked about twenty yards away. "Okay, Boone, what's up? I kinda got the feeling that we were done after last night." Boone stared at him for a second. "You're hunting someone, aren't you?" Mark nodded. "How did you know?" "The look in your eyes. I've had that same look myself." "Yeah," said Mark, "I'm hunting the asshole who shot and nearly killed me. What of it?" "Like I said last night, I don't see any point in staying here anymore. I feel like I owe you, so I'd like to come with you, at least until you find him."

Mark thought about it, and having an experienced sniper coming with him couldn't hurt. "Sure, what the hell, why not? Just let me make sure Cass and Amata are okay with it." They walked back over to Cass and Amata, who had been staring at them. "Amata, Cass, this is Boone. If nobody minds, he's gonna be joining us. Boone, this is my girlfriend Amata, our friend Cass, and the flying robot between them is ED-E." "Hello, nice to meet you," said Amata. "Hey soldier boy," said Cass. Boone simply nodded. "I, uh, helped him out with something last night, and he's a hell of a shot. Any objections to having him join us?" Neither of them said anything. "Ok," said Mark, "next stop, Boulder City."

Boulder City was a couple hours away from Novac. Boone and Mark went ahead, and Cass and Amata trailed about 30 yards behind. ED-E kind of stayed in the middle, peeling off occasionally to shoot at something. Mark could hear Amata and Cass laugh at something, but Boone hadn't said a word since they left. He kept his eyes on the horizon, scanning for targets. They were almost near Boulder City when Boone finally said something. "So that's your girl, huh?" "Amata? Yeah, we've known each other our whole lives. She was actually the reason I helped you out last night." Boone looked at him inquisitively. "You told me what happened with your wife. I started to think that if something like that happened to her, I would never forgive myself. Then I read that bill of sale, and it just made me angrier. You see, Amata's pregnant." "Stop." "Hey, you asked." "No, I said stop because we're here."

Mark looked up and saw what was once Boulder City. The entire city was in ruins. There were only a couple of structures left standing. It reminded Mark of a lot of the cities back in DC. Amata and Cass came up behind them. "Wow," said Amata, "did the bombs do this?" "No." said Boone. "During the Battle of Hoover Dam, NCR rangers and troopers made a strategic retreat into the city. Legion troops followed, but they didn't realize that the NCR lined the entire city with any explosives they could find. We were able to hold onto the dam, but just barely." "Ok Boone," said Mark, "thanks for the history lesson. We need to look around, see if Benny and those Khans are here." They started to search the ruins, and what they found looked like a graveyard. There were bodies of NCR troopers and Great Khans lying everywhere, almost assuredly dead. "Christ," said Cass, "what the hell happened here?" "I don't know," said Mark, "but keep on your toes."

They then heard a voice calling out weakly for help. It came from about ten yards to their left. The group, led by Mark, walked over to see who it was. It was a Khan, and he looked like he was covering a wound on his left arm with his right hand. He was sitting against a pile of rubble. Mark looked at his face, and flashed back to the night that he was shot. It was one of the Khans who were with Benny. When he saw Mark's face, he looked like he had seen a ghost. "No way. You're that courier Benny wasted in Goodsprings." "Correction," said Mark, "the one he nearly wasted." "Damn, and I thought us Khans were tough to kill." His eyes moved to Boone, and then back to Mark. "You know you're traveling with a fucking murderer, right?" Mark looked at Boone, whose face was expressionless, and then back to the Khan.

"Whatever. I don't know what he did, and I'm not really interested in that right now. Where the hell is Benny?" "Probably back at the Strip, laughing his ass off. We were supposed to meet some other Khans here, but the NCR trapped us here. Benny got the NCR to let him go. The prick didn't even pay us. We've been in a standoff for the past few days, and then someone's gun goes off and everyone starts shooting. I managed to stay hidden for most of it, but as you can see, I still got shot. I'm pretty sure everyone else is dead." "So are you McMurphy or Jessup?" "Jessup. McMurphy's dead." Mark put his bag down, unzipped it, and searched for something. Jessup was sure he was going to shoot him, but instead Mark pulled out a stimpak and a bottle of water.

"What're you doing?" Jessup asked. "Move your hand. That's gonna get infected if it's not treated. I can't do anything about the bullet, but you'll live." Jessup looked hesitant. "My dad was a doctor. I know what I'm doing. So either let me fix it, or you can sit here and slowly die. Your choice." Jessup weighed his options, and moved his hand. Mark injected the stimpak into his arm just below the wound, and the wound started to heal almost instantly. Mark then took off the bandana that Jessup was wearing and wrapped it around the wound.

"That should keep until the wound fully heals. Drink some damn water, or you're gonna get dehydrated." He tossed the bottle to Jessup, who looked confused. "You're helping me, even after what I did?" "Yeah, well, I guess technically Benny shot me, not you. Plus, it looks like he screwed you over too, so being the nice guy that I am, I decided to help you. But that's all I'm doing for you. You're on your own from here." "Thanks, man. I won't forget this. Khans always repay our debts. Here, take this, and when you see Benny, shove it up his ass for me." He reached into his pocket and pulled out something. He tossed it to Mark, who put it in his bag. "See you around, Jessup." He turned to the rest of his group. "Come on guys, let's get going."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. If anyone was disappointed that I didn't do the "Come Fly With Me"** **quest, I'm sorry. I was never that into it, and I literally flipped a coin to decide if I should include it or not. Until next time.**


	17. Chapter 17: The Girl in the Brown Robe

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is doing well. We are making our way towards Vegas. Please enjoy the chapter, and please continue to review.**

The group decided to stop at the 188 Trading Post to rest and get some food before they made their way to Vegas. It was about an hour walk from Boulder City, and about halfway through their walk, Mark remembered he hadn't looked at whatever Jessup tossed to him. As they were walking, Mark took it out and looked at it. It appeared to be a golden flip lighter, with the insignia of the Tops Casino on it. "What's that?" Amata asked as she walked up next to him. "It's a lighter that Jessup tossed to me before we left. He must have swiped it from Benny before he got away."

"Mark, have you decided what you're going to do when we actually get to Vegas and confront him?" "Eh, not exactly, but I'm working on some ideas. Right now I'm leaning towards going undercover somehow. I don't want to get in a shootout unless absolutely necessary." "I wasn't aware that you were a master of disguise," Amata said jokingly. "Hey, I have many, many talents. Although some of those talents are for your eyes only, if you catch my drift." "Don't flatter yourself. You're not as great as you make yourself out to be."

The 188 Trading Post was where Highways 93 and 95 intersected. There were a few shops here. There was a weapons dealer, a bar, a restaurant, a medical station, and a general trader. As they walked up the hill to the shops, Mark thought he felt someone staring at him. Mark looked around. It wasn't anyone in the group. Cass had immediately gone to the bar, Boone went to check out the weapons dealer, and Amata was just looking ahead. Then he noticed who was staring at him. It appeared to be a woman in a brown robe. Mark could swear he had seen that type of robe before, but he was having trouble remembering where. "Amata," said Mark, "why don't you go get something to eat. I'll be over in a minute. ED-E, go with her." Amata looked like she was about to say something, but then she shrugged her shoulders. "Ok. Let's go ED-E."

Mark started walking towards the woman. She must have realized that she was staring, because she turned around rather quickly. Mark stopped a couple of feet behind. "Hey there. You, uh, wanna tell me why you were staring at me?" She turned around and said, "sorry about that. I didn't realize that I was staring. Look, I'll be honest with you. You look like you've traveled a long way down some bad roads." Mark tried to suppress a grin. "You have no idea." "Where are you from?" she asked. "Well, my girlfriend and I are from a vault in DC." "Ooh, the Capital. Go sightseeing often?" "Yeah, I've seen the sights. Hell of a commute to get there, though." "I can imagine. Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. Veronica Renata Santangelo at your service." She gave Mark a theatrical bow. Mark chuckled. "Well, Miss Santangelo, you may call me Mark Franklin." "So, you're from a vault, huh? I kind of live in a hole in the ground too, although it's more like a bunker. I gather any supplies that my family might need. Although, these days I think they'd rather have me out here anyway."

She was silent for a few moments, and then spoke again. "Can I ask you a question, like straight up?" "Sure, go ahead," said Mark. "I had a run-in recently with this group calling themselves the Brotherhood of Steel. Pretty strange bunch. Do you know anything about them?" As soon as she said, "Brotherhood of Steel," Mark suddenly remembered where he had seen that robe before. "You wouldn't happen to be asking me because you are one of them, am I right?" She looked stunned. "How-how did you-?" "Like I said, I'm from DC. I helped the Brotherhood out with something. Saw inside their Citadel. Learned their history. I'm pretty sure I saw a couple of scribes wearing those robes. Plus, I've been out here a few months, and you're the first person who's mentioned the Brotherhood at all. How'd you think I got out here anyway?"

She chuckled and shook her head. "You certainly have been a lot of places. I was only asking because I know about our reputation out here. We've made a lot of enemies." "Yeah, I heard about the falling out you guys had. It's a shame, too, because back east, the Brotherhood are regarded as heroes." "I know," Veronica said, "I know all about that. I wish that this chapter could do the same thing." She looked wistful. "So, where are you and your group headed, anyway?" "Vegas," Mark said. "Hoping to strike it rich, are you?" "Not exactly," Mark said as he rubbed his scar. "The head of the Chairmen, Benny, robbed me, shot me, and then buried me in a shallow grave. So, I'm going to get some justice." A look of indecision came over Veronica's face. "I'll be honest, when I first saw you, you looked like someone who could handle himself, and talking to you only confirms it. There are still some places in the Mojave that I'd like to see. Maybe I could come with you and your group, help you guys out?"

Mark looked her over. She didn't look like much, but she did have Brotherhood training, and Mark knew firsthand what that training entailed, having experienced it under Sarah Lyons. "Say you do come along. What do you bring to the table?" She got a big grin. "Well, I am a bit of a gearhead, and I thoroughly enjoy punching things." To illustrate her point, she lifted up her right arm, which up until this point, had been covered by her robe. The sleeve fell down, revealing a pneumatic power fist. "This is what I bring to the table." She turned, reared back, and punched a jersey barrier, splitting it in half like it was nothing. She turned back around. "So?" Mark thought it over. That was impressive. "I'll check with the others, but otherwise I don't see why not. Welcome to this little group of vagabonds that I've seem to have collected, Miss Santangelo." She smiled. "Well, thanks for taking a chance on a naïve young girl from California with stars in her eyes and a pneumatic gauntlet on her hand."

Just then, Amata came up next to Mark and kissed him on the cheek. "Hey, honey, who's this?" "Amata, this is Veronica Santangelo. Veronica, this is my girlfriend, Amata Almodovar. Veronica's going to be joining us." "Nice to meet you Veronica," said Amata. "Nice to meet you as well, Amata." Amata turned back to Mark. "Mark, everyone's getting lunch. You coming?" "Yeah, go back over. I'll be there in a minute." As she walked away, Veronica said, "Hey, uh thanks for not telling her I'm Brotherhood. I'll tell the rest of your group eventually, once I get to know them better." "It's all right. Look, I've known Amata my entire life. She knows about the Brotherhood, so she'll probably be fine with it. I've barely just met Boone and Cass, so I don't really know their feelings about the Brotherhood, so I won't tell them." Veronica looked at Amata as she walked away. "So, that's your girlfriend, huh? Damn. If she wasn't taken, I would so hit that." They were silent for a moment, and then the both of them burst out laughing.

A little while later, after Veronica introduced herself to everyone (she told the others that she was a "procurement specialist"), and after they ate, everyone was ready to go. Cass refilled her flask, and Boone looked armed to the teeth, as usual. They were about to leave when Mark noticed something under the bridge. It was a boy sitting in front of a bunch of trinkets, with a flag of the pre-war United States hanging above him. Mark was intrigued. "Veronica, who's that?" "Oh, him? They call him the 'Forecaster.' He's supposed to be able to tell the future. I really don't believe in that sort of hocus-pocus." "The future, huh? I'll be right back." He started to walk over when Amata spoke. "Mark, come on. You don't believe in that stuff, do you?" "I just want to see what he says, might be good for a laugh or two." "Fine, but hurry up." As soon as Mark got close, the boy looked up at him and started to talk:

"Your face does the thinking. Two to the skull, yet one gets up. Odds are against you… but they're just numbers after the two-to-one. You're playing the hand you've been dealt, but you don't let it rest. You have known pain both physical and emotional, perhaps more than one should. You shuffle and stack your hand, a gamble. Will it pay off? Forecast: rapidly changing conditions."

Mark tried to move, but the boy's almost hypnotic gaze kept him frozen. He continued:

"Local, local, here and now…little of interest, things to buy, false hopes, and regrets watered down, washed down in dirty glasses. With regret comes a girl...smiling sad, brown robe, named Veronica, half here, half there. Wraps her heart up like a pack, in the pack, a key, some say. Underground, and under a cloud, your meeting may be mutually beneficial. Forecast: cloudy, with a chance of friendship."

Mark tried to say something, but nothing came out.

"Bull and Bear over the Dam at each other's throats… but a light from Vegas? Ball spinning on a wheel, more than two at the table. All placing bets, all losing in different ways. A dam of corpses, towns of corpses, scattered across the sand. But where, and in what shares? Even the dealer doesn't know. Monuments in the east, monuments in the west. You came to escape your past, but your past will come back and reveal itself in ways that you would not expect. When your darkest hour comes, listen to the lion's roar and the cry of the 87th man. Forecast: a rain of blood will flood the desert, and it will take more than a purifier to cleanse it."

The boy finished talking, and then put on a strange piece of headwear. "Sorry, mister," he said, "no more thinking for today." Mark realized that he was holding his breath and had broken out in a cold sweat. Mark stared at the kid for a moment, but then turned around and walked back to the group. "Mark, you okay?" Amata asked. "You look a little pale." "Yeah, uh, I'm fine. Let's get going."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Veronica is my favorite companion in New Vegas, so I was really looking forward to writing this chapter. Until next time.**


	18. Chapter 18: Viva New Vegas

**Author's note: Hello everyone. I hope everyone is enjoying the story thus far. Enjoy, and reviews are always welcome.**

They were an hour-and-a-half away from Vegas, according to Mark's pip-boy. It was close to 6 pm, and the sun was beginning to set. Mark and Amata were up front, while Veronica was talking with Cass and Boone about 15 yards behind them. Well, Cass at least. It sounded like Boone hadn't said a word. ED-E was buzzing around somewhere behind them. "Ok, Mark you've looked pale ever since we left the 188. What the hell did that kid say to you?" Amata asked. "It's nothing," Mark said. "Mark, don't bullshit with me. I've known you long enough to know that you don't get spooked easily. What did he say?" "All right. For starters, he knew that I was shot twice in the head." "Mark, he's probably seen that wound before." "Really? How many people can say they got shot in the head and lived?" Amata was silent for a moment. "Ok," she said, "I will concede that point."

"I think he knew where I came from. He said something about monuments in the east, coming here to escape my past, and he specifically said the word 'purifier.' You can't tell me that that's just a coincidence." "I don't know, Mark. I think all that shit you've done, plus getting shot in the head, has made you paranoid. Maybe doing this was a bad idea." Just then, Veronica caught up with them. "Hey you two. What're you talking about?" "Nothing," said Mark. "Ok. So Amata, Mark tells me you two grew up together in a vault. What was that like? Why'd you leave DC in the first place?" Amata glanced at Mark, who mouthed "keep it vague." "Well," said Amata, ignoring him, "the vault was nice. We always had clean water, food and a nice, warm bed to sleep in. I, um also may have gotten a little better treatment than everyone else because my father was the overseer."

Mark snorted at that last remark. Amata and Veronica stared at him. "A little better treatment? That's an understatement. You got double the ration coupons and your bedroom was a hell of a lot bigger than the rest of ours. A lot of the other kids called you the 'vault princess.'" "Did you call me that, Mark?" "No, of course not," Mark said a little too quickly. "So," said Veronica, "how did her father react to you dating his little girl?" "That's a bit of a complicated question," said Mark. Amata knew that they were getting into an area Mark didn't want to talk about, so she changed the subject. "Veronica, I forgot to ask, what does a 'procurement specialist' do anyway?" Veronica looked at Mark. "You trust her, right?" "Of course he trusts me," Amata interjected. "Mark, what's she talking about?" Mark looked over his shoulder at Cass and Boone, who were still about 15 yards behind.

"Veronica is a member of the Brotherhood of Steel." "Oh, like back east?" "Kind of. I told you what I know about them. The chapter back east had some, well let's call them ideological differences than the chapters here and in California. So for the time being, keep that between us. They're not as well-liked out here, so don't tell Boone or Cass, ok?" "Hey," Amata said, "I can keep a secret. So do you like working for the Brotherhood?" Amata asked Veronica. "Well, it pays like ass, but it's hard to get another job with my skill set. You know, when that contingent came out here a couple months ago, they talked about some kid who came out of a vault and became some kind of uber-hero. You guys know anything about that?" "You know," said Mark, "I actually met the guy. Nice guy. Really down to earth. Good looking as hell, too." Amata sighed and rolled her eyes.

They continued to talk about nothing in particular for the next hour or so, when they came upon an arched sign, with mismatched neon letters that spelled out "Freeside." According to Boone, this was the only way to get into Vegas besides a monorail at Camp McCarran. As they started to walk through Freeside, Mark said to Amata, "Stay close. I don't like the looks of this place." Mark had reason to be worried. There were a lot of buildings that had collapsed due to two-hundred plus years of neglect. There were also a lot of people dressed in rags leaning up against the buildings. They passed by a castle-like structure, with a sign out front that read "Old Mormon Fort." Down a side street, Mark saw what looked like a couple of casinos. One was called the "Atomic Wrangler," with a cowboy riding an atom. The other one simply said "Silver Rush." Cass said, "Damn. This place smells like death warmed over."

They continued to walk, and a building came up on their left. In purple neon, the sign read, "King's School of Impersonation." There were a couple of guys standing in front of the door, wearing white t-shirts, jeans and had their hair slicked back. "Hey Mark, those guys remind you of anyone?" Amata asked as they passed. "Oh yeah," Mark said, getting a bad case of déjà vu, thinking about Butch and the Tunnel Snakes. Mark could see the lights of the strip as they approached the front gate. The arch over the entrance said "Welcome to the Strip." Before they could get any closer, a securitron rolled up to them. There were at least six more securitrons patrolling the gate, a couple of them on a raised platform. "Submit to a credit check, or present your passport before proceeding to the gate." "A credit check?" Mark asked. "What for?" "Admission to the Strip requires an official passport or proof that you are carrying the required two-thousand bottle cap minimum. These policies prevent less-than reputable persons from entering the Strip and ensuring that a good time is had by all."

Mark thought for a moment. He had more than enough to cover him and Amata, but he didn't have enough to cover Boone, Veronica and Cass. Mark put down his bag and started to search through when he felt someone brush past him. It was Veronica. The Securitron faced her. "PDQ-88b: Input RobCo security override master code: 1C 3C R34 M." Mark looked at her like she was crazy, but the securitron started buzzing and its face disappeared, and all you could see was a red screen. After a few moments, the face reappeared, and the securitron said, "Thank you. You may proceed. Enjoy your stay." The gates then swung open. Cass spoke. "How the hell did ya do that?" "I'm good with robots," she said with a smile on her face, as she winked at Mark.

Mark looked around at the Strip, and he was in awe. Everything was just so bright. There were casinos on either side of them as they entered. The one on the left was the Lucky 38, with the 38 above the door surrounded by a large roulette wheel. The steps leading to the front entrance had flashing lights, and it was guarded by securitrons. Looking further down the street, Mark could see a couple of NCR troopers who looked like they were drunk, and that was confirmed when one of them threw up. To their right was a casino called "Gomorrah." The sign had fire shooting up from behind it, and there were black silhouettes of two women in sexually suggestive poses. In front of Gomorrah was what Mark assumed was one of the strippers. She was wearing knee-high black leather boots, a black leather corset, and what looked like black tape x's covering her nipples. Amata scowled as she noticed Mark staring at the stripper, and smacked him in the back of the head. Cass and Veronica snickered. "Dammit, Amata, what the hell was that for?" "That was for staring at a whore, how about we go with that? Besides, we have a visitor."

She pointed to their left, and Mark could see that Victor was rolling towards them. "Howdy partner, looks like ya'll made it to Vegas after all. Now the head honcho of fabulous New Vegas, Mr. House, is itching to make your acquaintance," Victor said as he pointed to the Lucky 38. Mark looked around and saw the Tops Casino a little further down the street. "I've got something to do first Victor. Tell Mr. House that I'll meet him when I'm done." Victor was silent for a few seconds. "All right, partner, but I wouldn't take too long. He's a good guy, but he ain't too patient." "I'll keep that in mind, Victor." "You know," Veronica said as they walked down the street, "they say that no one's been inside the Lucky 38 since the bombs dropped." Mark wasn't paying attention.

They had stopped in front of the Tops. The building itself looked like two buildings had been pushed together, and the overhang was wavy with yellow flashing lights running across it. "Ok, so what's the plan, Captain?" Cass said from behind him, "Full-on assault? I'm eager to do some killin.'" "No. A full-on assault would be our last option. Innocent people could get caught in the crossfire. No, what I'm thinking is some subterfuge." Mark looked around, when a sign caught his eye. It said, "Vault 21 Hotel and Gift Shop" in neon, and the back of the sign was a vault door, similar to Vault 101. "I got an idea. Follow me."

They walked into the hotel, and Mark and Amata were immediately reminded of Vault 101. To their left were a closed door, a school desk with a computer terminal on it, and a couple of lockers. To their right was a counter with another terminal on it, and the sign behind it said "Overseer." Directly in front of them was an open doorway that Mark assumed was the way deeper into the vault. Walking over to them was a woman who looked to be in her late twenties, who had blue eyes and blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, and was wearing a blue vault jumpsuit that had the number 21 on the back. She was also wearing a pip-boy on her left wrist. "Hi there. My name's Sarah Weintraub. Do you need some rooms, or would you like to take a tour?" "Hi Sarah. My name's Mark, and this is Amata, Cass, Boone, Veronica, and ED-E. Do you sell clothes here?" "Why, yes we do," she said excitedly, "what exactly are you looking for?" "Do you have any dresses?"

 **Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. Why is Mark looking for dresses? Is he secretly a crossdresser? Find out next time.**


	19. Chapter 19: Three Beauties and a Benny

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is doing well. Enjoy the chapter, and, as always, reviews are welcome.**

They did indeed sell dresses. Sarah had led them into a room off to the side of the lobby. Among other pre-war knick-knacks, there was an assortment of men's and women's clothes, including formal wear. As they all entered the room, Amata turned to Mark. "Why are we-" She never got to finish because a brown blur ran past them, nearly knocking them into the surrounding shelves. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I can't believe it!" Veronica said in a very excited voice. " _So_ many dresses, _so_ pretty." She began looking through them. "I want this one, no, I want this one, no, I want them _all!"_ "Veronica, sweetie," Cass said as she went near Veronica, "calm down fer a second." She put her hand on Veronica's shoulder, and when she did, Veronica gave her a death glare and growled at her, so she backed away a few feet.

"Veronica, ya actually _want_ a dress?" Cass asked. "Hey," said Veronica, examining a blue dress, "just because I kick ass doesn't mean that I don't want to look pretty now and then." "Mark," Amata said, "before Veronica has a heart attack, you wanna let us in on your plan?" "Yeah, I wanna hear this plan of yers too, lover boy." "Ok," Mark said, "here's what I'm thinking. Back in the vault, this was this 'gang' that called themselves the Tunnel Snakes. They wore black leather jackets, had greased-back hair, and thought women would just fawn all over them just because they looked cool. Based on what I remember about Benny, I'm guessing he's the same way. So he's probably not going to ignore three smokin' hot ladies who come up and flirt with him. That's where you three come in."

"I'm gonna go in the Tops in disguise, then you guys come in ten minutes later, all dressed up. Flirt with him, and get him to take you guys up to his room. Amata will send me a message on her pip-boy telling me which room he's in. While you guys distract him, I'll come up, get the chip, get him to tell me what I want to know, and possibly put two in his skull as repayment." "Franklin," said Boone, up until this point had been quiet, "you know that they take all of your weapons before they let you in, right?" "Already thought of that Boone." Mark pulled out a switchblade and tossed it to Cass. "The guards are probably all guys, so they probably won't give you three as thorough a pat down as they will to me." "Mark," Amata said, "if we're all wearing dresses, where are we supposed to keep this?" "Uh…ok, I did not think of that, but I'm sure you'll figure something out."

Mark, Boone, and ED-E waited in the lobby while the three of them got changed. Mark had taken off his armor, put it in his bag, and had put on a pair of jeans, a red shirt, a jean jacket, a pair of sunglasses, and a blue baseball cap that had a red brim and a stylized "A" on the front that he picked up in the gift shop. Boone and ED-E would be waiting across the street with everyone's stuff, and would be the last line of defense in case Benny eluded the rest of them. While they waited, he noticed that Sarah Weintraub kept glancing at him when she thought he wasn't looking at her. She looked like she was trying to solve a puzzle. He looked at her, and for some unknown reason, she seemed familiar, like they had met before. Mark was certain they had never met, and he eventually shook himself out of his stupor. Maybe Amata was right, maybe he was a bit paranoid. A few minutes later, she descended further into the vault, a look of uncertainty upon her face. They waited for a half-hour when the door to the gift shop opened. Cass came out, wearing a sparkling silver gown that went down to her ankles, and white flats. Her long red hair fell around her shoulders. She handed Mark a couple of bags. "There ya go, lover boy. That's all a our other clothes and weapons. Ya definitely owe me a drink fer this." "Hey, just follow the plan and I'll buy you drinks 'till you can't drink anymore."

"Ya might end up goin' broke before I can finish drinking." She adjusted the dress, looking uncomfortable. "Why tha hell do people wear dresses anyway? They're impractical as hell." "People wear dresses to feel pretty, silly," Veronica said as she practically danced out of the gift shop and back into the lobby, with a big smile on her face. She was wearing a strapless blue dress that went down to just below the knees, with a white belt with a black buckle around her waist. She also had black one-inch heels on. For the first time, Mark could see that she had short black hair. "Thank you so much for the dress, Mark. You have no idea how much I've wanted one."

"Glad I could make your day, Veronica. Listen, both of you," he said, addressing Cass and Veronica. He checked to make sure Amata hadn't come out yet. "Amata is the only person left in this world that I love. I am trusting the both of you to keep her safe. I wouldn't trust her safety to just anyone. I know the three of us basically just met, but I consider you guys to be my friends. Now I don't know if Benny saw the two of us together in Goodsprings the day I was shot, so if either of you feel like he suspects something, I need you to get her out of there. Restrain her if you have to; just get her out of there." "Don't worry, Mark," said Veronica, "no one will lay a hand on her if I have anything to say about it." "Yeah," said Cass, "anyone touches her, I'll castrate 'em." "Thanks guys, I appreciate it." Mark saw Amata come out of the gift shop, and his jaw dropped.

She was wearing a gorgeous blood-red silk dress that flared out at her hips and stopped just above the knees. It had half-inch spaghetti straps and showed off her bosom, while still leaving something to the imagination. She was also wearing matching red one-inch heels. Her brown hair, usually in a ponytail, fell loosely around her face. She stood in the doorway, her face as red as the dress, looking at Mark nervously. "Do-do you like it?" Mark didn't say anything. Instead, he walked over to her, grabbed her, dipped her backwards, and gave her a passionate kiss. When Mark was done, Amata looked a bit flustered and had to catch her breath. "You look absolutely gorgeous," Mark said. "I gotta agree with Mark on this one," Veronica said, "you look drop-dead beautiful."

"You know," Mark said seductively, "If we weren't about to kill someone, I would toss you on that counter, rip off that dress, and have my way with you." Amata started to blush again. "Ya can do that later, lover boy," Cass said, interrupting them. "Right," he said adjusting the jacket he was wearing. "You all know the plan. Give me ten minutes, and then you come in and do your thing."

Mark entered the Tops and looked around. In the lobby was a long, curved granite desk with two men in grey suits behind it. On either side of the desk were large, open doorways leading to the rest of the casino. "Hey, hey, name's Swank and I run the day-to-day operations here," said one of the men behind the counter on Mark's left. "Welcome to the Tops. I'm gonna need you to hand over any weapons you may be carrying." "Well, I don't have any," Mark said spreading his arms, "but you're more than welcome to check." One of the men guarding the doors came over and patted him down. Once he was done, he nodded to Swank. "All right, now that that piece of business is out of the way, was there anything I can help you with?" "I'm here to try my luck at the tables." "Right on, daddy-o. The cashier is upstairs. There's a set of stairs right behind the wall here." "Thanks, Swank. You have a good night."

Once Mark got his chips, he sat down at a blackjack table. He saw Benny at the back of the room, surrounded by four guards, his hair as greasy as Mark remembered it. Part of Mark wanted to kill him himself, but he wasn't packing any heat of his own. A few minutes later, he saw the girls walk past him and towards Benny. He ignored them, not wanting to arouse any suspicion, although he found it hard to not look at Amata in that red dress. He tried to focus on the game, glancing at Benny every fifteen seconds or so. It looked like he said something funny, because the girls started to laugh. After a couple of minutes, it looked like their plan was working, as Benny was leading them away from his guards and to some elevators away from the main floor.

Amata, Cass and Veronica followed Benny into an elevator, and they got off at the thirteenth floor. Amata noticed that there was one guard on patrol, and that the room was the only one on the floor with double doors. His room had a queen-sized bed, a fully stocked bar and dressers to their left, and a couple of doors to their right. "Ladies, ladies, make yourselves at home. What can I get you to drink?" "Whiskey," Cass said. "Beer for me, please," said Veronica. "Um, could I use your bathroom?" Amata asked. "Sure thing, doll face. It's that door right behind you." Amata went in, and noticed it was surprisingly clean. She started to type in her pip-boy: "13th floor, only room with double doors. One guard on patrol." She sent the message, and a few moments later, she received a message: "On my way." Amata stayed in the bathroom for a couple more minutes, hoping she could stall him long enough until Mark got up. She went back out, and saw both Cass and Veronica with their hands in the air. "Guys, what's going-" "Hands where I can see them doll face."

Benny had a gun out and was pointing it at the three of them, and his back was to the open door. Amata raised her hands. "You really think I'm that stupid? I saw you with that guy I iced in Goodsprings. So, what, are you here for revenge? 'Cause that ain't gonna happen. I've come too far to be offed by some dames in dresses. So here's what's gonna happen. Maybe if you guys all get down on your knees and beg, maybe I won't kill you." The three of them saw Mark tiptoe into the room. Amata then started to laugh. "What's so funny?" Benny asked. "You're right. The guy you shot, he's my boyfriend. The funny thing is, he's not actually dead. But you're going to be." Benny turned around and saw Mark. He went to fire his gun, but Mark forced Benny's arm upwards, causing him to fire into the ceiling. They then began to struggle. "Veronica, Cass, get her out of here, NOW!" Without a word, Veronica and Cass each grabbed one of Amata's arms and dragged her out of the room against her will.

Mark kneed Benny in the chest, forcing him to drop his gun. Mark punched him in the face a couple of times. Benny tried to respond in kind, but he was telegraphing his punches so badly that Mark was easily able to deflect them. "What's the matter, Benny, can't fight someone unless you knock them out from behind and bind them?" "You have no idea what's going on, and why I took that chip. Too bad you came all this way just to die. GUARD!" "Oh, I think you'll find that your guard is quite dead, so he won't be responding anytime soon."

Mark gave him an uppercut to the jaw, which staggered him and forced him against the bar. Mark saw Benny's gun a couple of feet to his right, so he dove for it. He grabbed it and got back up. Benny was running at him, a bottle of wine in his hands. He went to swing it, but Mark fired a couple of shots into his stomach. Benny stopped mid-swing, and fell to his knees, the bottle crashing to the floor beside him, blood pouring out of his stomach. Amata, who heard the gunshots, ran back into the room after making sure that it wasn't Mark that had gotten shot, followed by Cass and Veronica. "Mark, are you okay?" "I am," he said as he kissed her, "but he isn't," he said, motioning to Benny.

Benny was now lying on the floor, trying pointlessly to stop the bleeding. "You know, from where you're lying, this must seem like an 18-karat run of bad luck," Mark said, echoing Benny's words from the graveyard, "but the truth is, when you shot me, you signed your own death warrant." Benny didn't say anything as the life left his body. Mark hugged Amata. "You're okay, right? He didn't hurt you, did he?" "Mark, I'm fine." "Yeah, we're fine too, thanks fer askin'," Cass said. "Oh, be quiet Cass. By the way Mark, nice one-liner. I approve," Veronica said. "Thanks. I am glad you guys are okay. Why don't the three of you go meet with Boone while I look for the chip."

After the girls left the room, Mark searched the entire room, but came up empty. He opened one of the doors to his right, and saw a hallway that looked like it wasn't always there. Mark walked down the hallway, and came into what looked like a workshop. It was dimly lit, but Mark could make out some workbenches and some computer terminals. He saw the chip on one of the workbenches, so he grabbed it and put in his jacket pocket. He was about to leave, when he heard a voice. "Hey there!" It seemed awfully cheery. Mark turned around and saw that it was a securitron, only with a big cartoonish smiling face. "Who are you?" Mark asked. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am a PDQ-88b securitron, but you can call me Yes Man." "Yes Man, huh? That's interesting." Mark took the chip back out. "Yes Man, what do you know about this chip?"

After talking to Yes Man for about twenty minutes, Mark went back down and met the others across the street from the casino. He took off the hat and sunglasses and tossed them in his duffel bag. "Did you find the chip?" Amata asked. He took out the chip and showed it to them. "Ok, so what now, lover boy?" Cass asked. "Well," said Mark, "I was knocked out, bound, shot, left in a shallow grave to die, was in a coma for a week, and then traveled halfway across the Mojave to track down and kill the guy who started all off this. The least I can do is finish the damn delivery." They walked back down the street to the Lucky 38, where Victor was waiting. "All right Victor," Mark said, "I'm ready to meet Mr. House."

 **Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. The baseball hat that Mark wore was an Atlanta Braves hat. I am a fan of them, so I figured that I would work that into the story somewhere. Until next time.**


	20. Chapter 20: Playing House

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is doing well, and that you are all enjoying the story up to this point. We are now in Vegas, and the real fun is about to begin. Enjoy, and please review.**

Victor led them up to the entrance to the Lucky 38, and what looked like a protective wall screeched open, going into the overhang above, which then revealed the actual entrance doors. They walked inside and were met with a blast of cold air. The air also seemed to be stale, like it was the same air that had been recycled over and over for the past two hundred years. They saw the main floor of the casino, which was decorated in a black and red motif. On either side of the room were fully stocked bars. There was an elevator in the middle of the room that was guarded by two unmoving securitrons. The floor around the elevator was sunken in from the rest of the main floor, with blackjack and roulette tables. There were slot machines on the outside of the railing that separated the sunk-in part of the floor from the rest of the main floor.

"Alright, partner. Now the boss has comped you the Presidential Suite. It'll be like a little clubhouse for you and all your friends." "Thank you, Victor, I guess," Mark said. "Now, there is a condition. Y'all can stay here, but you are the only one who gets to see the Boss. Clear?" Mark looked around at the others and looked back at Victor. "Crystal clear." All of them, including Victor, got in the elevator, which was cramped with all of them squeezed in there at once. The elevator started to rise, and it eventually came to a stop, and the doors opened. "Presidential Suite," Victor said. Everyone but Mark and Victor got off, and they looked around. Amata noticed that Mark didn't get off. "Mark, aren't you coming?" "I'm just gonna go speak with Mr. House first. Go ahead and get settled. I'll be back in a bit." He gave her a quick kiss, and then the door closed, and it started to rise again.

This ride was not as long as the first one. "Penthouse Floor," Victor said as the door opened. The first thing Mark saw when the door opened was another securitron. This one, however, had a woman's face. She had brown hair with a flower in it. "Hey, Victor, haven't seen you in a while. Who's your friend?" "Well, hello miss Jane. It's a pleasure to see you as well." He made a motion as if he was tipping a hat to her, if he had been wearing a hat at the time. "This buckaroo here is here to see the boss." 'Buckaroo?' Mark thought. 'Apparently he thinks i'm five years old or something.' "Oh, right," Jane said, "well, don't let me keep you." Mark walked down a set of stairs. From the view out of the window, Mark guessed that they were probably on the top floor. The floor seemed to be made out of white marble, and off to his right he could see a kitchen area.

Mark walked through some curtains and was met with a massive computer monitor, with smaller monitors around it, with a control panel below it. He guessed that this was likely Mr. House's office, but he didn't see anyone. "Mr. House?" Mark called out as he looked around the room. He turned back to the monitor, and he jumped a little. On the screen was an image of a man with a styled, off-center haircut and an expertly groomed mustache. He also had a frown on his face. "Mr. Franklin," the man said in an old-world accent, "you've come a long way, both literally and figuratively, I'm guessing. You take your obligations very seriously, for which I am very grateful." Mark looked at the monitor in shock for a couple of moments, and then shook it off. "I'm guessing that you are the mysterious Mr. House that everyone's been talking about. So are you some kind of AI, or do you not like meeting people in person?"

"I can assure you, Mr. Franklin, that I am no AI. I am very much real. As for meeting in person, this is as close as we're going to get. This is the closest anyone's gotten in two hundred years." It took a moment for Mark's brain to register that. "Two hundred years? So that must mean-" "Yes, Mr. Franklin, I was alive before the Great War, as its now called. To exist this long, I've had to make certain sacrifices, but I believe that it is well worth it. Now, if you're done, I believe that you have something for me." Mark took the Chip out of his jacket pocket. "Excellent," Mr. House said. "Please put it in the console." A slot opened in the control panel, just big enough for the chip.

Mark took a step forward and then stopped. "House, before I give this to you, we need to discuss payment. The delivery order stipulated a two-hundred-and-fifty cap bonus for completing the delivery. Now I'm not stupid. I've seen enough tech to know that this is much more than just some novelty poker chip. If it was, I doubt that Benny would have robbed and shot me for it. If it was, I would be back in Goodsprings with my girlfriend right now. So, I think that I deserve a bit of a bonus, wouldn't you agree?" There was silence for a moment. "Well, you certainly have balls, I'll give you that." He sounded like he was impressed. "I could've used someone like you working for me before the war. Very well. I will give you five times your contract bonus, and not one cap more. Now, if you wouldn't mind, the chip please." "You've got a deal, House." Mark put the chip in the slot on the console. It slid in, and after a few seconds, it popped back out, and Mark grabbed it. A securitron came up to Mark and handed him a bag of caps.

"I spent decades looking for this," House said, "hiring salvagers to search for this out west in the town that was once called Sunnyvale. The chip was to be delivered on October 24, 2077. Unfortunately, the bombs fell first." "Yeah, House, I was actually wondering how Vegas managed to survive the war, although I'm guessing that you had something to do with that." "Very astute, Mr. Franklin. In 2065, all of my mathematical simulations predicted that the world would be engulfed by nuclear war within fifteen years. My contacts in the United States military informed me that there were seventy-seven warheads aimed at Vegas. Using satellites and roof-mounted laser cannons, I was able to prevent a majority of the warheads from hitting Vegas, although some did hit outlying areas. If the chip had been delivered earlier, I would have been able to destroy them all." Mark noticed that he sounded almost…disappointed.

"You see, the chip, in addition to other things, would have given me an upgraded operating system. In the two-hundred years since the war, I've had multiple system crashes, and I spent a good seventy years in a veritable coma to prevent a complete meltdown." "So, what else does this chip do, if you don't mind me asking?" "As for that, Mr. Franklin, I believe showing you would be the best course of action. Please proceed to the elevator." Apparently what the Chip did was upgrade the defensive capabilities of the securitrons. In addition to the Gatling lasers and 9mm machine guns already availabe to the securitrons, it also unlocked shoulder mounted missile launchers and grenade launchers. It also changed the face from a cartoon policeman to those of soldiers out of an old-world movie, complete with stubble and a cigar.

When Mark got back up to the Penthouse, House asked, "What do you think?" "I'll admit, House, those securitrons are impressive. So, what happens now?" Mark asked. "A cascading series of events, with you in the center of it all. To ensure the future of the city, certain steps must be taken. Make no mistake, the NCR and Legion will go to war again, and when they do, we'll need to be ready. As long as you are in my employ, there will be rewards beyond your wildest dreams, and I'm not just talking about money, but there will be plenty of that. What do you say?"

Mark thought for a few moments, mostly about Amata. He knew that if House was able to disarm and destroy nuclear bombs, the city was probably the safest place in the Mojave, perhaps the world. Amata would likely be safe here more than anywhere else they could go. Even if he had to put up with House, he knew that her safety was worth it. "Alright, House, you've got a deal." "You have made the correct choice, Mr. Franklin. Under my guidance, with you doing the legwork, this city, and humanity as a whole will not only survive, but thrive as it once did. Now, onto your first task. The securitrons on the Strip are but a mere fraction of my total force. The rest are located in an underground bunker, and I need you to take the chip there to upgrade them as well." "Ok," Mark said, "so where is it?" "The bunker is located under Fortification Hill, which is currently occupied by the Legion." "Wait, wait, wait, you want me to sneak onto a massive slaver base without anyone noticing?" "Exactly," House said. "You seem like a resourceful person. I'm sure you'll think of some way to do it. You are dismissed." With that, House's face disappeared, and the screen said 'connection lost.' Mark stood there for a moment, and then headed back to the elevator.

On the way back to the Presidential Suite, Victor told him about the amenities of the 38. It had a gym, medical facilities, a state-of-the-art laboratory, and a variety of clothing shops, among other things. Mark got off the elevator and looked around. The Presidential Suite took up an entire floor, and had its own fully-stocked kitchen, a game room with a bar, and several bedrooms, each with a private bath with water drawn from a private source under the 38. The entire place looked perfectly preserved. Mark went into the kitchen and saw Cass and Veronica talking to each other. They had both changed back into their regular clothes.

"Hey Mark," Veronica said. "Veronica, Cass," he said, nodding to both of them. "Would ya look at this place?" Cass said, with a smile on her face, "they got booze up the wazoo, and best of all, it's _free._ Now I'm really glad I decided ta travel with y'all." "So," said Veronica, "how'd your talk with House go?" "It was…interesting, to say the least. I'll explain more tomorrow, but the short of it is, House has hired me to do some work." Mark put the bag of caps on the table. Both Cass' and Veronica's eyes widened. "There are 1,250 caps in there, and that's just to start. If you guys want to work with me, you are more than welcome to share in the profits." Cass spoke first. "If tha caps keep rollin' in like this, ya can definitely count me in." "I'm in, too," Veronica said. "By the way," said Mark, "where's Amata?" "She's in the master bedroom, second door on the right," said Veronica. "We figured our captain and his lady should get the biggest room." "Please don't call me captain," Mark said. "We're all equal. Mark will be fine, thanks. Anyway, goodnight guys." "Goodnight, captain," they said in unison. Mark shook his head and walked out of the room.

He opened the door to the master bedroom. There were a couple of couches, a coffee table, and a small walk-in closet to his right, a bed directly in front of him, and a desk and some dressers to his left. Amata was sitting on the bed, still wearing the dress, although she had taken off the shoes and put her hair back in a ponytail. When she saw him, she got up and kissed him. "Hey, honey. How did your talk go?" Mark took off the jacket and put it on one of the couches. "I'll explain in the morning. I'm tired as hell." When Mark had his back turned, Amata noticed a gun tucked in the back of his pants. "Mark, what's that gun?" "Oh, this? This is the gun that Benny nearly killed me with. Looks nice. I thought that I'd keep it."

It was a customized 9 mm pistol, the entire body covered with ivy and floral details, and in image of some saint-like figure on either side of the ivory-finished grip. "You're gonna keep the gun that nearly killed you?" "Yeah," Mark said with a grin, "I have a weird sense of humor, although you know that already." She gave him a chuckle. "Yes, you certainly do. Mark, I wanted to talk to you about something." Mark sat down on the bed and she joined him. "What'd you want to talk about?" She was silent for a couple of moments, and she looked like she was having second thoughts. "Mark, we've been together for a few months now, and we're going to have a child together. As far as I'm concerned, I am your wife, so I've decided to change my last name to Franklin. What do you think?" Mark just looked at her, a big smile on his face. "Well, _Mrs. Franklin,_ I think that it would be an honor and a privilege for me to be able to call you my wife, and if I remember correctly, I do believe that it is traditional for newlyweds to have a first dance. Although compared to you, I am severely underdressed for such an occasion. Nonetheless, let's see what's on the radio."

He went over to the radio that was on the desk and turned it on. After fiddling with the dials, he found Radio New Vegas. "…in other news, a package courier found shot in the head in Goodsprings has reportedly regained consciousness and has made a full recovery. Now that's a delivery service that you can count on." Amata started to laugh, and Mark just rubbed his temple. "And now," the man on the radio continued, "here's Frank Sinatra singing, "Fly Me to the Moon." As the music began to play, Amata put her arms around Mark's neck, and Mark wrapped his arms around her waist, and they began to dance.

" _Fly me to the moon,_

 _Let me play among the stars_

 _Let me see what spring is like_

 _On Jupiter and Mars…"_

As they danced, they stared into each other's eyes

"… _In other words, hold my hand_

 _In other words, baby kiss me…"_

They began to kiss, and the music seemed to fade out

"… _Fill my heart with song,_

 _And let me sing forever more_

 _You are all I long for,_

 _All I worship and adore..."_

The kissing made way to loud, passionate love-making, lasting into the night.

"… _In other words, please be true_

 _In other words, I love you…"_

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I do not own any rights to the song. I heard it at my cousin's wedding and thought it would be perfect here. Until next time.**


	21. Chapter 21: Friends of the Followers

**Author's Note: With the last chapter, this story now has over 5,000 views. I would just like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read the story. You guys are the reason I keep writing. Enjoy the chapter, and please keep sending me reviews.**

Mark awoke the next morning, remembering the events of last night, which brought a big smile to his face. He looked over at Amata. She was still sleeping, her back turned to him, with the blanket coming up to the middle of her bare back. The sun was streaming in through the windows, so Mark checked his pip-boy: 8:51 AM. He got out of bed carefully so he didn't disturb her. After finding his underwear, which somehow were lying on the desk a good fifteen feet from the bed, and a t-shirt and a pair of pants, he put them on, and started to walk out of the room. On his way out, he noticed the dress that Amata was wearing the night before. He guessed he must have literally ripped it off of her, because all it resembled now was one giant piece of red cloth. He chuckled silently and walked into the hallway, closing the door quietly.

He went into the kitchen, turned on the light, and went to the refrigerator. He grabbed a bottle of water and chugged it down in a few seconds, so he decided to get another one. He also saw that he had left the bag of caps from last night on the table. Just then he saw Veronica walk into the kitchen, wearing her robe. "Mornin,'" said Mark. Veronica gave him a smile. "Good morning to you too. You, uh, have fun last night?" "I have no idea what you're talking about," Mark said in a faux-innocent voice. "Oh, come on," she said as she grabbed some water out of the fridge, "I'm pretty sure the entire Strip heard you two last night. You were really giving it to her, weren't you?" "Well," said Mark, "I'm usually not one to kiss and tell, but I'm pretty sure I rocked her world." "Nice," Veronica said as she gave him a high five.

"Well, I guess it was technically my wedding night, so I didn't want to disappoint my wife." "Ooh," Veronica said as she sat down at the table, "did I miss the ceremony?" "Eh, she was basically my wife anyway, so we made it official, kind of. Maybe someday we'll have an actual ceremony. Anyway, sleeping in our room is the new Mrs. Franklin." Cass then came into the room, wearing her pink plaid shirt and her jeans. She slapped Mark on the back, causing him to choke on the water that he was drinking. "Mornin', tiger. I would ask how your night went, but I think I already know." "Good morning, Cass," said Mark. "Hey Cass," Veronica said, "Guess what? They're _married_ now." "So yer hitched now, eh lover boy?" "Yes, and for the love of god, stop calling me that. Like I said to the both of you last night, just call me Mark." "Eh, I'm jus' kiddin' captain. This calls fer a celebration." She took a bottle of whiskey out of the fridge and started drinking out of it.

"Seriously, Cass?" Veronica asked, "It's 9 am." "Hey," she said as she put the now-empty bottle on the counter, "I'm a high –functioning drunk. Plus, I've heard worse excuses ta drink." With that, she left the room. After a few moments of silence, Veronica spoke. "Hey Mark, could I ask you a favor?" "If you're asking for a three-way, I'd be up for it, but I don't think Amata wants to share," Mark said, grinning the entire time. "You wish," Veronica said, grinning as well, "but that's not gonna happen unless you turn into a leggy brunette, with a C-cup, at least." "So Amata's all set then?" "Hey, I wasn't joking yesterday. No, the favor has more to do with the Brotherhood."

"Ok, I'm listening. Go on." She lowered her voice, just in case Cass or Boone walked in on them. "For what seems like forever, I've been trying to get our Elder to try to be more like the Brotherhood chapter that you worked with in DC. I was thinking that maybe…maybe you could talk to him?" "Well, like I said, they gave me a ride out here because I helped them out and they were trying to reconcile with you guys. Did that not go well?" "I don't know. I don't think anything came out of it. It was all considered to be top-secret, and I don't have access to those records. I mean, you worked with the Brotherhood, saw what they were like, but you're not Brotherhood. I think that an outsider's perspective may be the thing that changes his mind, because I've tried talking to him multiple times, and I'm out of ideas." Mark didn't think that he could change their minds if their own people couldn't, but he saw a glimmer of hope in Veronica's eyes, and he was never one to extinguish someone's hope. "Sure, Veronica. If you think it'll help, I'll go with you and talk with him, just not today, though. Once I get settled, then we'll go."

"Thanks, Mark. You know, it's weird. I was beginning to think that maybe that I should just give up, but then you show up at the 188, like the answer to my prayers." "Yeah, I get that a lot. By the way, do you know of any places that provide medical treatment around here?" "Can I ask why?" "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. Amata's pregnant, and I just want to get her checked out. I mean, there are medical facilities here in the 38, but I wouldn't know how to use any of the machines. We didn't have any of those in the vault. Everything was done by hand. Plus, pregnancies rarely happened, and they didn't want a teenager dealing with that kind of thing." "So you knocked her up did you? You remember that fort-like structure we passed on the way here last night?" Mark nodded. "The Followers of the Apocalypse set up shop there, and they provide medical treatment, so they would probably be your best bet."

Mark heard the door to their room open and close, and then Amata came into the kitchen wearing a t-shirt and grey sweatpants. "Morning, honey," she said as she went over and kissed Mark. "Morning to you too, baby." Amata grabbed some mutfruit out of the fridge and sat down. "So what are we doing today, Mark?" she asked. "Well, Veronica told me there's a place that provides medical treatment in Freeside, so I want to make sure everything is going ok with you and the baby. Right now, however, I am going to take a shower." Amata got up, grabbed him, and pulled him close. "Would you, um, like me to join you?" she said quietly. "I would love that." Just then, however, she pushed him away, ran over to a trash can next to the fridge, and threw up. Veronica got up and ran over to her. "Amata, are you okay?" "She's fine," Mark said as he rubbed Amata's back, "it's just a little morning sickness. It's normal. But that kind of killed the mood, baby, so I'm gonna take a rain check on that dual shower."

A little while later, after everyone had eaten and showered, Veronica, Mark, Amata and ED-E walked out the front door, heading into Freeside. Boone said that he was going to get some "target practice," and Cass seemed to be having a love affair with all of the alcohol in the game room, so they let her be. As they walked out, Amata noticed that everyone on the street was staring at them. "Mark, why is everyone staring at us?" Before Mark could say anything, Veronica spoke. "If I was a bettin' gal, I would say it's because we just walked out a place that no one had entered in two-hundred years." "Oh, yeah, that makes sense," Amata said. "Yeah," said Mark, "just ignore them and keep walking."

Freeside seemed less dangerous during the day, but Mark wasn't taking any chances, so he kept his assault rifle at the ready. About a half-hour after leaving the Strip, they arrived at the Old Mormon Fort. The name "Fort" was deceptive, as the only defenses were the walls, which Mark estimated were only about twenty feet high, tops. When they first entered, they saw a couple of guards sitting behind a sandbag wall. In the center of the courtyard was a flagpole with a white flag that had a black cross surrounded by a black circle, the symbol of the Followers of the Apocalypse. There were also a few rows of white tents with beds in them.

Mark looked around for a doctor, when one approached them. She was wearing a lab coat with a patch with the Followers symbol on her right arm, but it was her hairdo that was the most interesting. The sides of her head were shaved, and she had a pointy orange Mohawk on the top of her head. She spoke to them in a gentle voice. "Hello there. My name is Julie Farkas. Are you here to drop off medical supplies?" Mark spoke. "Julie, I'm Mark, and this is Amata, Veronica, and ED-E. Sorry, no we're not. We're actually here because my wife," he said, pointing to Amata, "is pregnant, and I wanted to get her checked out."

Her face fell. "Oh. Well, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that we can't do that here. This is a free clinic, and we only offer basic medical support and a place to rest for those in dire need. The good news is, there is another clinic a couple miles outside Freeside run by another one of the Followers, Dr. Usanagi. She has an auto-doc and other equipment, so she should have no problem in helping you out with that." "Wait," Amata said, "if you have auto-docs, why aren't they here?" "Unfortunately, maintaining the equipment costs caps, so Dr. Usanagi has to charge for her services." Mark turned to leave when Amata spoke again. "Are things really that bad here?" Julie shook her head. "It's a mess. Freeside townies are always picking fights with NCR civilians, thieves run amok, and the local families sit back, taking advantage of it all. We could use all the help we can get, but no one's stepped up."

Amata turned and looked at Mark, and he knew what she was going to say before she said it. "No, Amata." Amata grabbed him and dragged him about ten yards away. "Come on Mark. You helped all those people in DC. How is this different?" "It's different because when I did all of that, I didn't have a wife, and I wasn't expecting a kid." Amata didn't say anything, instead giving him a sad puppy-dog face. "That's not gonna work." She continued to stare at him. He hung his head and sighed. "Fine, I'll help, but I'm getting you checked out first. That is non-negotiable." "Deal," she said as they walked back over to Veronica and Julie. "Is there anything we can do to help?" Julie's face lit up. "There are always things that need to be done. A couple souls in Freeside could really help us out, if they could kick their addictions. We also need to get a regular supply of medicine organized, but the Crimson Caravan wants too many caps for what we need. Also, tensions between townies and NCR citizens have been going downhill lately, and someone is going to get hurt."

"Tell us about the drug addicts," Amata said. "Their names are Jacob Hoff and Bill Ronte. Bill is an exceptionally skilled mechanist, and he could fix the problem with Freeside's water pump if he was clean. Jacob got hooked on chems working for the Garretts at the Atomic Wrangler. It's ironic because he's a natural chemist, and he used to homebrew detox chems." "Do you know where they are?" Mark asked. "The drunks and drug addicts flock to the Atomic Wrangler, so I'd start there." "Ok, Julie. We'll see what we can do." "Thank you. You have no idea what this would mean for the Followers." She walked away, and Mark turned to the two of them. "Veronica, I'm going to get her checked out. Would you mind going to the Wrangler and seeing what you can find out?" He tossed her a small bag of caps. "Bribe someone if you need to." "On it," she said as she walked out of the Fort.

An hour or so later, Mark and Amata were in the Followers clinic outside of Freeside, and Amata was being examined by an auto-doc while another Followers doctor monitored the results. Mark saw Veronica come in, and motioned her head towards the door. "Amata," Mark said, "I'll be just outside with Veronica. Call me if you need me, ok?" "Ok." They stepped outside. "Okay," said Mark, "what's up?" "I found Bill Ronte. Turns out he was in an abandoned building near the Wrangler. I got him back to the Fort." "Wonderful. What about Jacob Hoff?" "Well, he's over in the eastern part of Freeside, so I figured we could do that together." Just then, Amata came out the front door. "Everything's fine, you worrywart," she said to Mark. "Now, let's go help those addicts."

After grabbing some food from a roadside stand, they made their way to the east side of Freeside. After greasing a couple of palms, they found out where Jacob Hoff was. He was in what was once a two-story building, but now it was barely standing. He was balding, with stubble on his face, and he was dressed in rags. He also appeared to be sleeping. "Is he dead?" Veronica asked. "No," Mark said, "I can see him breathing. It's shallow, but he's alive." Mark went over and shook him. "Wha', what is it?" he said, as he awoke groggily. "Are you Jacob Hoff?" "Yeah, yeah, I'm Jacob. Hey, uh, you got any psycho?" "No, Jacob, we're here because Julie Farkas is worried about you," Amata said. "Ah, Julie's a saint, but I'm fine. I feel as young and strong as I ever have." "Really?" Mark said, "Because you don't look so young and strong." "Jacob," Amata said, "the drugs aren't helping you. I've seen firsthand what drug abuse can do to a person. Who's supplying you?" "Uh, guy named Dixon. Actually, that's him across the street right now." The three of them looked across the street, and saw a man in his mid-to-late thirties, wearing a red baseball cap with goggles on them, a black vest with a white t-shirt under it, and black pants.

Before Mark knew what happened, Amata was across the street, talking to Dixon, who motioned to a nearby alley that they went down. Mark got very worried. "Veronica, get him up. I need to go see what the hell she thinks she's doing." Mark ran across the street, and when he got down the alley, he saw Dixon pinned against the wall, with Amata holding her pistol to his head. "Amata," Mark said as he approached them carefully, "what are you doing?" "WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M DOING?" she shouted, her face red and her voice more intense than Mark had ever heard, "I'M SOLVING THE DRUG PROBLEM." "Amata, first of all, calm down. Tell me what's going on." "I just told you," her voice calming a bit, but still seething, "he's a piece of trash. He doesn't care whose life he ruins, as long as he gets paid." Mark looked into her eyes, and saw a look of pure hatred in them. "Amata, killing him in cold blood isn't the answer." "Sure it is. He dies, Freeside starts to clean up. Everybody wins."

Mark turned to Dixon. "You, if I get her to let you go, you have twelve hours to leave Freeside. If I hear that you are still here, I will not stop her a second time. Are we clear?" "Yeah, man, whatever. Just don't kill me," Dixon said. Mark turned back to Amata. "You hear that, Amata? He's gonna leave. Now, give me your gun." Amata looked back and forth between Mark and Dixon a couple of times. "Can't do it," she said. Bang. Dixon's body fell to the ground. "Amata, what-" "Don't, just…just don't. I'm going back to the 38." She walked back towards the street and turned the corner. After the shock wore off, Mark walked back into the street, where Veronica was helping Jacob walk. "Mark, what happened? I heard a gunshot, and then Amata walked by me without saying a word." Mark stood there for a few moments, staring at the ground. "I-I honestly don't know."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time.**


	22. Chapter 22: Arcade Games

**Author's Note: I hope that everybody is doing well. Enjoy the chapter, and please send in reviews.**

After Amata's outburst, Mark sent ED-E to follow her to make sure she got back to the 38, but to stay out of sight. Getting Jacob Hoff back to the Old Mormon Fort was a bit difficult. His constant drug use had weakened him, and he basically dragged his feet while Mark and Veronica carried him. On the way there, Mark heard his pip-boy beep. He looked at it and saw that Amata had sent him a message. The message read: _I'm back at the 38. Don't think I didn't notice ED-E, either._

"So," Veronica said, "you have no idea why Amata just murdered someone in cold blood, and then stormed off like a child?" "Not a damn clue. I do intend to ask her about it later, but something tells me it's a conversation that I'm not going to enjoy having. I mean, I doubt anyone's gonna cry for that guy, but something about him set her off." "Has she ever acted that way before?" Veronica asked. "No. She's never acted that way before. I mean, she's gotten angry before, mostly at me, even when we were kids, but something about this was different. The way that she was yelling at him, it sounded like she was releasing a lot of pent-up anger and frustration." "Why would she get angry with you?" "Hell if I know. I'm a guy, so apparently everything I do is wrong. Even when I'm doing exactly what she told me to do, somehow it's still wrong."

When they got back to the Fort, they handed Jacob to a couple of Followers doctors, who took him to a nearby tent. Julie Farkas came over to them, with a smile on her face. "You truly have done us a great service. With Bill and Jacob back under our care, we can put them on the road to recovery." Mark waved it off. "Don't mention it. This place looks like it could use all the help it could get." "Hey, where's that woman who was with you before? Your wife, I think you said? I hope nothing happened to her." "She's fine, thanks for asking. She was just…tired, and she went back to where we were staying." Mark looked at his pip-boy. It was close to 5 pm. "Well, Julie, it was a pleasure to meet you, but we should be going. I'll see what I can do about the other things you said needed done another time." "Of course," she said, as they shook hands, "have a good night."

As she walked away, Mark asked, "Veronica, you ready to go?" He looked to where she last was, but she wasn't there anymore. He looked around, and saw her walking towards one of the tents, with what looked like a male Followers doctor sitting in a chair outside of it. Mark followed her, and when he got closer, he saw that the man looked close to forty years old, about 6' 2", had platinum blonde hair, and black horn-rimmed glasses. He hadn't noticed either Mark or Veronica come up to him until Veronica snapped her fingers in front of his face. He seemed a bit startled, but stood up and collected himself.

"Oh, um, sorry. If you're looking for medical attention, you should try one of the other doctors. I'm a researcher, and not even a very good one." "I didn't mean to startle you," Veronica said, "but you looked like you were staring into space, like you were unsure of something." "Oh, no," giving them a small smile, "I was just contemplating the origins of this ball of mud spinning through space that we happen to live on. Oh, but where are my manners? I was taught better than that. My name is Arcade Gannon." "Well, Arcade," Mark said, "I'm Mark Franklin, and this is Veronica Santangelo. Now, what did you mean when you said that you aren't a good researcher?" "Well, my research is mainly focused on finding alternative sources of medicine for common injuries and ailments. Stimpaks out of barrel cacti, and other fantastic improbabilities. I doubt it will go anywhere, though."

"If you think it's improbable," Mark said, "then why are you pursuing it?" "The past hundred years or so, the Followers have gotten by using scavenged medical supplies from the old world, but the side effect of medical success is that people live longer." He chuckled, albeit grimly. "Eventually we're going to run out of hospitals to loot. That's why we need new ways to produce supplies. Or old ways, if this research goes anywhere." He hung his head and sighed. "You don't sound all that enthusiastic about it," Veronica said. "I am enthusiastic about it, but nihil novi sub sole." Both Mark and Veronica looked confused. "Come again?" Mark asked. "Oh, sorry. It's Latin for 'there is nothing new under the sun.' Before you ask, I didn't learn it from the Legion. It's a shame actually. Many people have spoken Latin over the centuries, and some of them were quite pleasant. It's a shame that the language is now being associated with the gentlemen across the river."

Mark thought for a moment. He was going to have to infiltrate a Legion stronghold anyway, so any information couldn't hurt. "You know anything about Caesar?" Mark asked. "Caesar was a member of the Followers, but before my time. He wanted to rebuild the new world in the image of the old. A story of good intentions gone bad. In that regard, he's hardly unique. If you set aside his leadership capabilities, ruthless cunning, and extensive knowledge, he's just another jerk who steps on people to get his way." Veronica spoke. "Something's bothering me. If you think your research isn't going anywhere, why not help treat people, like the other doctors?" "Look, I do have medical experience, but not all of the doctors are 'people persons.' Someone needs to do the research. Even if it is boring…and pointless…and a complete waste of time." He frowned and hung his head again.

Mark had an idea. He reached up and put his right hand on Arcade's left shoulder. Arcade looked up. "Look, Arcade, I think that I can help you out." Arcade looked confused. "I can see that things are bad here. I've already talked with Julie about that. You see, I'm from back east. My dad was a doctor, too, a great one at that. He enjoyed helping people. He wanted to use his knowledge to help improve the wasteland, and he did. He did it because of his drive and determination to get things done. I can tell that you have that same drive; you're just stuck. Along the way, my dad got stuck, too, but he never gave up. You said your research was pointless; I don't think it is. A lot of people said what my dad was working on was pointless, and that it was never going to work, either, but eventually it did work. Travel with me and this group of people that I seem to have collected. My employer has a state-of-the-art laboratory. Come with me, and you can use it. Continue your research. Make a difference. **Help these people** ," Mark said motioning to the rest of the Fort, "just don't give up. If you give up, it's gonna take a hell of a lot longer for things to get better, if at all."

Both Arcade and Veronica stared at him, their mouths agape. "Plus," Mark added, "my wife is pregnant, and it would be nice to have someone with more medical experience than myself nearby." "Damn, kid," Arcade said, "you certainly have way with words. Before I say yes or no, you're saying that I would have free reign. Your employer wouldn't interfere, and I can take anything I find to the Followers?" "You have my word." Arcade thought for a few moments. "Alright, Mark, you can count me in. Just give me a few minutes to get a few things settled."

While Arcade got his things, Mark and Veronica waited near the front gate. "So," said Veronica, "that was, um, quite a speech." "What can I say? Sometimes I just get on a roll like that. It wasn't like I was just talking out of my ass. I meant every word that I said." "So, what was this research that your dad worked on?" Mark had a feeling that she may ask that question. Luckily, Arcade had just come back over towards them with a small brown duffel bag. "You ready, Arcade?" Mark asked. "Yeah. I forgot to ask. Who is your employer, anyway?" "You ever hear of Mr. House?"

Arcade looked shocked. "You mean to tell me that you are working for _the_ Mr. House? The same guy who lords over the Strip from the Lucky 38?" "The very same," Mark said. He ran his hand through his hair and chuckled. "Well, that certainly explains a few things." "Like what?" Veronica asked. "Did you guys hear about that courier who got shot in Goodsprings?" For no apparent reason, the scar on Mark's temple began to pulse. "Yeah," Mark said, rubbing it, "that was me. Left me in a coma for a week." "I'm sorry to hear about that," Arcade said, "I really am. Anyway, they say that he went into the Tops last night, and that Benny, the head of the Chairmen, was found dead shortly thereafter."

"Yeah," said Mark, as they started to walk through Freeside, "he was the one who shot me." "He didn't kill Benny by himself," Veronica interjected, "he had some help." "Yes, Veronica, you and the others helped. Go on, Arcade." "Well, they say that him and a group of people walked into the Lucky 38 like they owned the place, which I'm guessing was you guys. You know, they've started to call you 'the Courier.'" 'Great,' Mark thought, 'another nickname. I guess the Lone Wanderer wasn't enough, now I'm the frickin' Courier. This is not what I imagined when I came out here.' "So, Arcade, tell us about yourself," Veronica said. "Oh, I'm really rather boring. You'd get better stories out of a Freeside junkie." "Come on Arcade," Mark said, "if we're going to be working together, you've gotta tell us something." "Ok, fair enough. I'm in my late thirties. I was born…west of here. I was an only child, and I spent most of my time with my mother. My father died when I was young, and I like medicine and reading about failed pre-war socioeconomic theories. I'm sure you're asking yourself, 'why hasn't some lucky man swooped in and swept this bachelor off his feet?' Like I said, I'm boring." After that, the rest of the walk to the 38 was spent in silence.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time.**


	23. Chapter 23: Sins of our Fathers

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is enjoying the story up to this point. Enjoy the chapter, and as always, reviews are welcome**

When Mark, Veronica and Arcade stepped off the elevator to the Presidential Suite, Arcade looked around and gave a whistle. "Wow, this is quite a set-up you've got here. I always wondered what the inside of this place looked like. So, where is this lab that you promised that I could use?" "If I remember correctly, it's on the fifth floor. Veronica, could you show him to one of the empty bedrooms? I need to go have a chat with my wife." "You got it. Come on, Arcade."

As Arcade and Veronica walked down the hallway, Mark walked to his room and opened the door. He saw Amata sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. She didn't notice him at first, so he slammed the door shut. That got her attention. She jumped a little, and slowly turned her head to look at him. "You know, it's funny," he said as he started to take off his armor and put it on the desk, "you grow up with someone, been best friends for twenty years, and you think you know everything about them. Their likes, their dislikes, their skills, and all that good stuff. You think you know what they're capable of, and then all of a sudden, they do something that leaves you dumbfounded."

"Mark-" "No, no," he said as he held up a hand to silence her, "let me finish. After you stormed off, Veronica asked me what happened, and for once, I didn't even have the slightest clue. So I began to think. Why would my wife, the love of my life, who wouldn't kill anyone unless it was in self-defense, kill someone who wasn't even remotely threatening them? Then I remembered what you said to Jacob. You said you saw firsthand what drug abuse can do to someone. Now, I don't do drugs, and I don't think anyone in Goodsprings did any drugs, so it must have been in the vault. So tell me, who was it? One of your friends?"

She continued to stare at the wall, and there was silence in the room for a few moments. Then she started to cry. Mark went over to the bed, sat down, and pulled her close. "It-it w-was my dad." She put her head on his shoulder and continued you to cry. "Your dad?" She nodded weakly. "A-a couple of months b-before everything went to hell-" He held up his hand to silence her again, and contorted his face like he was concentrating on something. He could hear whispers outside the door. He walked over to the door quietly, and could hear the whispers better. "…move, Veronica, I wanna hear what's goin' on…" "…you move, I was here first…"

Mark opened the door and they both stumbled a bit. "Is there something that I can help you guys with?" "Oh, hey Mark," Veronica said, clearly flustered, "we were just, um, walking by and, um, we were wondering…" "Guys," Mark said, "I know that you're concerned, and you wanna know what happened, but I'm trying to figure that out right now. So, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to have a private conversation with my wife. I don't want to be rude, but I need you to go somewhere else. Anywhere else, just not here." "Come on, Veronica," Cass said, "let's go get a drink. We're here if you need us, Captain." "Appreciate it, guys."

Mark closed the door and went sat back down on the bed. Amata had stopped crying, but her eyes were still a bit bloodshot. "Sorry. Now what were you saying?" "Umm, yeah, like I said, a couple months before you and your dad left, I found a bunch of pill bottles in the locked drawer in his desk. They were all painkillers, and there were _a lot_ of them. I know for a fact that he didn't have any pain problems. He was just hooked on them. I knew he had changed, but I just thought that it was because of stress. I tried to confront him, but he wouldn't talk to me about it."

Mark started to rub her back. "Amata, why didn't you tell me?" "I thought that I was over it, but seeing that dealer made all those feelings come flooding back. I mean, it felt like he didn't even care about me anymore. It felt like all he wanted was to keep feeding us the lies that he had our entire lives. Even after you left the second time, it felt like he was purposely avoiding me." Silence permeated the air for a couple of minutes, and then Mark spoke. "I need to show you a couple of things. I wasn't sure about showing them to you, but I think that the situation dictates it." He let go of her and looked through his pip-boy. "The night that I came back, before I talked to your dad, I looked on his computer, and found these files. I copied them and then wiped them off the vault's server." He pulled up the first file and showed it to her. It was titled 'Rebels':

 _An alliance of rebels has formed in my vault, dedicated to the wholly destructive goal of re-opening the vault to the outside world. Amata and Edwin Brotch are the leaders of the band, with those ridiculous Tunnel Snakes making up its muscle, along with a handful of other youths and naïve idealists._

 _Attempts to isolate and demoralize the group are proceeding apace. Edwin Brotch has been jailed for his attempt to lead a direct attempt to open the vault's door, and their members have holed up in the old clinic and schoolroom. Their dwindling food supply and proximity to the dangerous "Dr. Andy" are sure to drain the morale from their rebellion, until they give up and they are welcomed back into our happy family again._

"Mark, I don't see how this helps. This only confirms my point." "Hang on. I have one more thing to show you." He pulled up another file, and this one was titled 'Amata':

 _It pains me dearly to know that Amata is behind the rebellious element in my vault. If she weren't their leader, it would be a simple matter to break their spirits and bring them back in line with the vault's time-proven isolation plan._

 _But with her as a central figure in their rebellion, I must refrain from the more persuasive tactics at security's disposal. I will not repeat the mistakes of that night again. The vault cannot afford it, and I cannot bear to drive my daughter further away from me._

 _Despite everything, I take great pride in her natural talent for leadership. When she inevitably comes around, I feel she will make a worthy successor to the position of overseer._

When she finished reading, tears began to form in her eyes again. "You see? Yes, he probably did change, and he believed that the rebellion was doomed to fail. Although with you in charge of the rebels, he probably should have known better than to doubt your leadership skills. Despite all of that, he still loves you, and I know you still love him. I hated that my dad didn't trust me enough to tell me to my face that he was leaving the vault, but I forgave him, because he was my dad and I loved him, and I still do. Both of our fathers made mistakes, and severe errors in judgement, but they're family, and you make allowances for family that you wouldn't make for anyone else."

"Oh god," she said, burying her face in her hands, "I feel like such an idiot." "Hey, you're not an idiot." "Yes I am. Did I ever tell you what I wrote in that note to my father?" "No. You said it was personal, and I respected your feelings, so I let it go." "Well, among other unflattering things, I told him that I didn't feel safe in the vault anymore, that I couldn't trust him anymore, and that he didn't care about me anymore." She looked at Mark and gave him a smile. "I also told him that I was going to find the only person I felt safe with, the only person I trusted absolutely and the person that I knew still cared for me, despite what happened between us."

"So you knew, even after what I said in the vault, that I still cared about you?" "Like you said, we've been friends for twenty years. One week of anger and regret can't come close to erasing that." They kissed. "Jesus, that night that you escaped, it feels like so long ago." "I know. We've both been through a lot of shit since then, but there's this saying that goes, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." "Yeah," said Amata, "but you were nearly killed a lot more than I was." "Yeah, I guess that makes me super strong, then." They both laughed.

"Do you remember when my dad interrogated me in his office that night?" "When he ordered Stevie Mack to assault you with a baton? Yeah, I remember." "You remember what you did right before he was about to hit me?" "Yeah. He was lucky I only shot him in the damn knee. The fact that your father would have his own daughter attacked made my blood boil." "Which is why you turned the gun on my father, and I pleaded with you not to hurt him." "You have no idea how close I was to pulling that trigger, but I knew if I did that and killed him, that it would have been the end of us, so I decided to just fire a warning shot to the right of his head instead. I think he got the point."

"When you protected me from getting hurt, and when you were merciful enough to spare my dad's life, I knew right then and there that I wanted to be with you forever. Which made it all the more painful when we were at the vault door and I told you that I couldn't go with you." "Well, if I knew the wastes were as dangerous as they were, I wouldn't have asked you in the first place." "You don't know how much I wanted to say yes. You remember the last thing you said to me before security came?" "You made me promise that I would be back, and I said that I would, and I always keep my promises."

Silence again permeated the room. "Thank you," Amata said. "I think talking about it helped." "Hey, I wouldn't be a very good husband if I didn't help you through things like this. In the future, if you need to talk, I'm always here to listen. If you get angry, there's a gym downstairs. Go hit a punching bag. Hell, hit me if you need to. Going around murdering people just because you have pent up anger isn't the way to go." "Yeah, I know. Um, those messages you showed me, why did you take them and then erase them from the server?" "Well, I was pretty sure I could convince your dad to step down, and I thought seeing those would have compromised you emotionally, and the vault needed you to be strong." "And you think that fight we had before you left didn't compromise me emotionally?" "Well, I didn't think that you would throw me out of the vault, but it all worked out in the end."

They both smiled and kissed. "Come on," Mark said, "it's time to eat." Mark put his arm around her shoulders and they walked to the door. When he opened it, he found that Cass and Veronica were eavesdropping again. "For the love of god," Mark said "can't we get any privacy in this place?" "Nope!" Veronica said, smiling. "Are you okay, Amata?" Cass asked. "Yeah," she said, looking lovingly at Mark, "I'm fine now."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time.**


	24. Chapter 24: Past, Present, and Future

**Author's Note: Before we get going, I would just like to take a moment to thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited, followed, or just read this story. If you guys hadn't, I probably would have stopped writing this a long time ago. With that being said, enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always appreciated.**

About an hour or so later, everyone sat down for dinner. Dinner that evening composed of gecko steaks that had been found in the fridge, and they were prepared almost expertly by Veronica, using some spices they had found in a cabinet. Mark wondered why there were gecko steaks in a fridge in a place that no one had supposedly entered in two-hundred plus years, but that wasn't his main concern at the moment. He had wondered if everyone would be getting along, now that Arcade joined the group, but as he sat down with them and ate, he realized that his worries were all for naught. There was a lot of laughing (except for Boone, whose face was as stoic as ever), and everyone seemed to be getting along just fine.

It was nice to eat with a large group of people again. He remembered meal times in the vault. His dad would ask him how his schoolwork was going, and Mark would ask how things were going in the clinic. Sometimes Amata would come and sit with them, and they would laugh at something funny that had happened, like the time Butch had gotten up from his school desk and tripped over his own feet, slamming his face into the floor. As he came back to the present, he looked over at Amata, who had already eaten one steak and had started on a second. He couldn't remember the last time she had eaten this much, but then he remembered that she was eating for two now. She noticed him looking at her, and she smiled, and he smiled back.

He looked around the table. It seemed like everyone had become such fast friends. It felt a little weird that everyone was getting along so quickly, but sometimes these things just happen, and there was no real way to explain it. Hell, his father told him that the first time that he had a playdate with Amata when they were toddlers, they seemed to naturally gravitate towards each other. He didn't know if it was fate, or just dumb luck that he met these people, and at the moment, he didn't particularly care.

As soon as everyone was done eating, Mark got up from the table and cleared his throat. Everyone quieted down, and Mark began to talk. "Ok. Since everyone is here, I think it's about time to tell you about the job that House has hired me, and by extension, all of you, to do. House seems certain that the NCR and Legion are going to war again, so he wants Vegas to be protected." He took the chip out of his pants pocket. "This chip, as I suspected, is not just some novelty chip. It upgraded the Securitrons on the Strip, which I'm sure that you've already noticed. These are not all of the Securitrons that House has at his disposal, however. The rest are located in an underground bunker, and those Securitrons need to be upgraded onsite."

Cass raised her hand. "Ok, Cass, you don't need to raise your hand, but go ahead." "Yeah, this sounds simple enough. Why do ya need us to help ya?" "I was getting to that. Unfortunately, the bunker is in a location that, at the present moment, is not easily accessible." "Why? Where is it?" Veronica asked. "The bunker is located underneath Fortification Hill." There was stunned silence in the room, before Arcade spoke. "You're talking about Fortification Hill, the same place that the Legion has set up shop?" "Well, unless there's another Fortification Hill that I don't know about, then yes." "Another question," Arcade said. "Go ahead." "Are you insane?" "Quite possibly. Any other questions?" There were none, so Mark continued.

"Ok. Now, Amata and I have only been living out here for a few months, so I don't really know my way around as well as I would like. You guys have lived here a lot longer, so I was wondering if you guys know the best way to get there." For the first time that night, Boone spoke. "The easiest way to get there would be through Cottonwood Cove." Everyone stared at Boone, although it was more that he had actually spoken than it was about his idea. He continued. "It's the only access point between Nevada and Arizona besides Hoover Dam, and the NCR isn't going to let us through there. Cottonwood Cove is where they hold slaves before they are ferried to the Fort." Mark looked at his pip-boy. Cottonwood Cove was southeast of Vegas, about a six hour walk. The only problem was that the pip-boy only gave him a general location of where it was, and not any of the terrain surrounding it.

"Alright," Mark said, "why don't we break for the evening? I need to talk to House about something. We can go into more detail tomorrow. Sound good?" Nobody said anything. "Ok then. Meeting adjourned." As everyone got up, Mark kissed Amata and headed towards the elevator.

(25 minutes later)

Mark stepped off the elevator and heard noises coming from the game room. He walked in and saw Arcade and Veronica playing a game of pool, and Cass was sitting behind the bar drinking (what else?) whiskey. There were two empty bottles next to her, and she was working on a third. Mark couldn't figure out how she could drink that much in a short period of time and still be conscious. 'She must have some kind of metabolism the likes of which no one had ever seen before,' he thought. Mark went over to the bar, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and sat down in one of the easy chairs scattered around the room.

He watched the game of pool that Arcade and Veronica were playing. The only ball left was the eight ball, and it was Arcade's shot. "Eight ball, corner pocket," he said, indicating the pocket he was aiming for. He lined it up, took the shot, and sunk it. "Game," he said. "Two-out-of-three, Gannon" Veronica said, sounding a bit upset that she lost. Arcade grinned. "Alright, but I don't want you complaining when I beat you again." "Bring it on." Arcade re-racked the balls, and motioned for Veronica to break. "Ladies first." "Come on Veronica," Cass said, finishing off the third bottle of whiskey, "show him some girl power." Veronica put the cue ball down, slightly off-center-right, and lined up her shot. She hit the cue ball, and it struck the freshly racked balls, and a couple of balls went in the pockets. "Oh, you're going down, Arcade." Mark laughed silently to himself. He finished the beer, got up and left the room.

He went into his and Amata's room, and found her sitting on one of the couches, reading a book. "Hey, babe, what're you reading?" he asked as he sat down next to her. She showed him the cover. It showed a clearly pregnant woman in a red shirt and blue jeans, holding her stomach. "What to Expect When You're Expecting," Mark said reading the title of the book. "Where'd you get that?" "It was on that bookshelf behind the desk, among other books. I figured it might be of some use, just so we know what to, you know, expect." "Clever," Mark said as they kissed. Amata folded down the corner of the page she was on, closed the book, and set it down on the table. She curled up next to him and put her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating, and if she had to guess, she believed her heart was beating in rhythm with his.

The two of them sat there for a few minutes, not saying anything, just enjoying each other's company. Amata broke the silence. "What do you think the others in the vault would say if they could see us now?" "Oh, they would definitely all be jealous, and I bet your dad would be pissed." She looked at him and gave him a questioning look. 'Why would my dad be pissed?" "Amata, we both know he never liked me. So the fact that that we're married, you're carrying my child, and we're living in a place that the vault can't hold a candle to, would probably make him pretty mad. I could only imagine the look on his face." Amata was silent for a few moments, and then chuckled. "Yeah, I guess it would be a sight to see. Oh, I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes."

Mark played along and closed his eyes. He could hear a dresser drawer open and close. She turned to make sure that he wasn't peeking, and then went into the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, she called out "are your eyes still closed?" "Yes." She came out of the bathroom and closed the door. "Ok, open 'em." Mark opened his eyes, and saw that she was wearing one of her old vault suits, although the suit didn't quite fit like it used to, with a slight bump visible on her stomach. "I don't see how this is a surprise, babe." "Just play along. Trust me, you're gonna like this." "Ok." As she spoke, her voice dropped and became a bit more seductive.

"You see, back when I was Overseer, I believe that you broke a couple of rules." Mark had a hunch where this was going, so he played along. "What rules would those be, _Overseer?_ " "Well," she said as she walked over to him slowly, "I believe that you left the vault, and that was still technically against the rules." "And what was the other rule?" "You broke my heart, and I don't think you were properly…punished for either act." She straddled him on the couch. "Now, as Overseer, it's my job to punish you. So how do you think you should be punished, you bad, bad, boy?" Mark grinned. "Oh, I have a few ideas." She started to take off his shirt, when there was a knock on the door. "Oh, come on," Amata said as she hung her head. She got off of Mark and opened the door, just enough for her head to look out of the doorway. It was Veronica. "Yes?" Amata asked. "Oh, hey Amata. I just wanted to talk to Mark about something." "Sorry, Mark can't come out to play right now. He's been a bad boy and he's currently being punished." Before Veronica could respond, Amata slammed the door shut and locked it. She turned back to Mark. "Now, where were we?"

(Next morning)

Mark awoke the next morning and looked at his pip-boy: 6:32 am. After realizing that he wasn't getting back to sleep, he got dressed as quietly as he could and left the room. He went into the kitchen, grabbed some water, and went onto the balcony outside that overlooked the Strip, and leaned on the railing. The casinos were lit as brightly as ever, and Mark could just barely make out a few people walking on the street. He looked up and watched the sun rise. After a few minutes, he heard the sliding door open and close behind him. Veronica joined him on the railing. "Morning," Mark said. "Morning," she said in response. "What're you doing us this early?" Mark asked. "Sometimes I like to watch the sunrise. It reminds me that beauty can still exist, even a world that was destroyed by war." "I know it does," Mark said, "because I get to look at the face of beauty personified every morning."

She smiled. "Amata's so lucky to have a guy like you." "No, I'm the lucky one. I almost screwed up big time and lost her forever." "Why, what happened?" Mark was silent for a couple of moments. "That's…something I don't really like to talk about. Let's just say that it would have been the biggest mistake of my life." "Ok. Fair enough." "What about you, you ever been in love?"

She stared straight ahead. "Yeah. There was someone, a long time ago. Her name's Christine." "What happened? Was she killed?" "No, although she could be dead for all I know. You know the Brotherhood. When we were founded, no one outside the original group was allowed to join. I know the DC chapter allows outsiders to join, but this chapter still sticks to the original ideals. Since we don't allow outsiders, they think everyone is obligated to procreate." "I'm guessing the higher-ups didn't like it when they found out that you're a lesbian."

"Yeah, that would be an understatement. Our elder at the time, Father Elijah, called it a 'disgusting habit that I would eventually grow out of,' and he was supposed to be my mentor." "What about your parents? Didn't they defend you?" She sighed. "My parents, they died a long time ago defending…something from the NCR. I don't remember what it was. I guess it seemed important at the time." "I'm sorry to hear that," Mark said sympathetically. "Thanks. Anyway, her parents sided with the elder, and Christine left. Nobody told me where she went. I still think about her every day." Veronica looked depressed. "I'm sure that she thinks about you, too," Mark said, "and I'm sure that one day you'll find her again, and you'll forget that she was ever gone." She smiled and looked at him. "Thanks. You really are a good friend." Mark looked at the sunrise.

"Last night, I heard you say you wanted to talk to me about something. What's up?" "Oh, right. I realized that I may have ambushed you when I asked you to talk to the Brotherhood for me. If you don't want to do it, I would completely understand." "Veronica, it's fine. I still intend to talk to them, because you're my friend, and friends help each other out. Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with something." "Sure. What do you need?" Mark looked at his pip-boy. "I modified mine and Amata's pip-boys so that we could talk to each other, as you probably remember from the other night, but I was wondering if it would be possible if you could make it so that we could track where the other one is." She smirked. "Come on, give me something difficult to do. Of course I'll do it." "Thanks, Veronica. Come on, let's go inside. I'll make some eggs." Mark turned to the door, but before he could open it, Veronica spoke again. "Last night, what did Amata mean when she said that you were being punished?" Mark laughed. "It was a sex thing." Her eyes dawned in comprehension. "Oh. Ok, got it."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time.**


	25. Chapter 25: The Reasons We Give

**Author's Note: To user Readbylamp, thank you for the message. Those were very kind words, and I'm glad I can help you pass the time at work. To all of you, enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcome and appreciated.**

By the time everyone had gotten up and eaten, it was close to 9:15, so Mark figured it was as good a time as any to go over the plan. Mark stood outside the game room and called out. "Could I get everyone into the game room, please? Everyone, into the game room." Boone and Arcade came out of their rooms, and the rest of them came out of the kitchen, ED-E included. They all walked past him (or floated, in ED-E's case), and into the game room. As Amata passed him, however, he grabbed her left arm and pulled her off to the side.

"What, Mark? Don't we need to be in there with the others?" "Well, yes, I do," Mark said quietly, "but you don't, because you're not coming with us." Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. "What do you mean, I'm not coming?" she said, clearly annoyed with him. "I think it's pretty self-explanatory. Now, I gotta go consult with the others." He turned around and went to walk into the game room, when Amata grabbed him by the shoulder. "No, Mark, I want an explanation, and I want it now." She let him go and he turned around. 'Damn, she's got a hell of a grip,' he thought. "Now, look me in the eyes, and give one reason that I can't go with you, and it had **better** be a good one." He was silent for a couple of moments. "Look, you're just gonna have to trust me on this. It isn't a good idea for you to be coming with us." That clearly wasn't a good enough reason, because the next thing that he knew, Amata socked him in the gut.

He fell to his knees, trying to catch his breath. That punch had knocked the wind out of him. Amata looked down at him with a death glare. "When you're ready to give me a real explanation, I'll be in the gym, pretending that one of the punching bags is you." As the door to the elevator closed, Mark couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride. There weren't a lot of people who could bring him down with just one punch. A bit of a smile crossed his face, before he winced in pain and held the spot where she hit him.

After he caught his breath and was able to stand again, he walked into the game room, where everyone was waiting for him. "You okay, Mark?" Veronica asked, as she saw him still wincing in pain. "Yeah, I'm…mmph…fine," he said as he closed his eyes for a moment. "Really?" said Cass, "'cause ya don't look fine." "It's nothing," he said, waving it off, "just gather around the pool table." Everyone gathered around the pool table, and Mark took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. He unfolded it, and laid it flat on the table. "What's this?" Arcade asked, staring at the roughly 15" by 15" piece of paper. "This," Mark said, gesturing to it, "is the most recent satellite image that House has of Cottonwood Cove, taken a few days ago."

They all looked at it. It was extremely detailed. There were overhead images of buildings, the terrain, and people that were at Cottonwood Cove. It showed an overhead shot of the river that led to the Fort, along with the boats the Legion used to transport themselves and the slaves. Arcade chuckled. "Of course House still has a satellite in orbit. Is it possible to be surprised and not surprised at the same time?" "Anyway," Mark said, "I've looked this over a few times. This cliff," Mark said, pointing to the right side of the road that led into the Cove, "looks to be high enough for us to shoot from, and not be detected right away. I do have concerns about that, however. There looks to be a bit of an incline," he said, pointing to the very right edge of the map, "that leads right up to the cliff, and once they figure where we are, they would use that to their advantage. Another possible problem is that we're all shooting from the same side, and it would be advantageous if we had someone on the left side of the road, but I don't see any good spots to shoot from."

"There is," Boone said, "it's just not on this map. There's a sniper's nest a bit further back and higher up that we can shoot from as well. It'll keep their attention divided." "How do you know about that nest, Boone?" Veronica asked. "I've been here before," was all he said. After a bit of an awkward silence, Mark continued. "Ok. Since Boone is the expert sniper here and knows the area, he'll take that nest. Arcade, Cass, you two will be shooting from the cliff, and Veronica, since you seem to prefer hand-to-hand combat, I'm gonna need you to keep an eye on that incline. Anyone comes up, knock 'em back down. ED-E will be coming in from above, further dividing their attention."

"What about you, what're you gonna be doing?" asked Arcade. "I'm gonna be on the ground, clearing out anyone who comes up the road. Once the camp is clear, we'll rendezvous up at the sniper's nest. I'll have to leave my pip-boy with you guys, since that would be a dead giveaway that I'm not one of them. I'll grab some clothes off of them, grab a boat and do what I need to do." "What about Amata?" Cass asked. "Where is she anyway?" she said looking around. "Amata will not be joining us on this particular mission." "Why not?" Veronica asked. Mark's eyes briefly looked over at Boone, before coming back to Veronica. "It's not important. Arcade, do you have a weapon?" "Yeah, I have a plasma pistol, why?" "Hmm," Mark said, "that probably won't work at long range. Cass, that shotgun won't work at a long distance either. Hang on."

He left for a couple of minutes, and then came back in with a couple of guns. One was Amata's scoped hunting rifle, and the other was a sniper rifle. He handed the hunting rifle to Cass. "That looks more your speed." He turned to Arcade and handed him a sniper rifle. "Have you ever used one of these before?" "Uhh, I may have, once." He took it and examined it. "A DKS-501 model rifle with a muzzle flash dampener and rubberized eyepiece and stock. Very nice." He noticed everyone staring at him. "What?" "I thought you were just a researcher?" Veronica said. "Hey, I like to read about a variety of subjects." Mark wasn't buying it, but he let it go. "Ok," Mark said, "you all know what we're doing, so why don't we all take the rest of the day to get ready, and we'll leave around six tomorrow morning. Anyone have any questions?"

"I do, actually," Veronica said. "Well, go ahead." "What are you hiding from us?" "Uh, come again?" "You sound like a military strategist. There's no way you learned that from being a courier out here. What did you do back east?" Now everyone was staring at Mark. "It doesn't matter what I did back east. All that matters is what I'm doing now. Does anyone have any questions about _this,"_ Mark said, pointing to the map. There were none. "Ok then. We're adjourned." Mark walked out of the room, leaving the rest of them in silence.

Mark stepped off the elevator onto the third floor where the gym was, and looked around. It was enormous. There where rows upon rows of treadmills, weight benches, and other machines that Mark couldn't identify. To his immediate left was a check-in desk, and to the far right were large windows that you could look out while you were working out. Mark remembered the "gym" that they had in the vault. It had a treadmill and a couple of small free weights. Past the check-in desk were rooms off to the side that were designated for more specialized purposes. There was one with a sign outside one of them that said it was for yoga, whatever the hell that was.

He wondered where Amata was, when he started to hear a steady thwacking noise. He followed the noise until he came upon a large room that the sign said was for boxing. He looked in the room and saw multiple boxing rings, decorated in a red and black motif, numerous heavy bags and other assorted equipment. He saw Amata punching one of the heavy bags, her hands taped, and her back turned to him. She had stripped down to a tank top with the grey sweatpants she had been wearing, and her boots were off to the side. He didn't say anything as he just watched and admired her. He couldn't believe how much she had changed since she left the vault, although it was more physically than mentally.

In a way, she was still the girl he grew up with; very smart, strong-willed, and a leader. Her father was right. She was a natural-born leader, one of the very, very few things that he was right about. Keeping up the morale of everyone during the stand-off was indisputable evidence of that. She had changed a bit mentally as well. She had adapted quite well from leaving the safety and comfort of the vault to living in the wastes. The noticeable changes were more physical. She had developed a healthy tan, and her arms had developed some muscle. She had started to get some abs, although the baby would soon take care of those. She had a picture of her mother and father holding her as a baby in their room. She looked exactly like her mother. Sometimes Mark still couldn't believe that half of her DNA came from Alphonse.

He cleared his throat to get her attention. She took one last jab at the bag, and then grabbed it once it came swinging back. Once she steadied herself, she grabbed a bottle of water that was on a stool nearby, took a swig and turned around. Sweat was dripping off her forehead, and even though her hair was in a ponytail, there were still some loose hairs that clung to her face. "Have you come down to apologize?" "Apologize for what?" Mark asked. "Sorry, that's the wrong answer, try again." "Amata, I have nothing to apologize for." "Oh, you don't?" she said, her voice rising slightly. "How about treating me like a child? How about not trusting me enough to give me a reason why I can't come with you other than, 'you're just gonna have to trust me?'" the last part of that said in a mocking voice. "What, you don't trust me?" "Mark, trust is a two-way street. You can't expect me to trust you if you don't show that trust in me."

Mark sighed. "Alright, you have a point." He grabbed another stool and sat down on it, and motioned for her to sit on the other one. "Amata, there's a reason that Boone's traveling with us. You remember how I said I helped him out with something in Novac?" She nodded. "Well, once upon a time, Boone had a wife named Carla." " _Had_ a wife?" Amata asked, her voice a bit more sympathetic. "Yeah. One night, I don't know how long ago, she was kidnapped by the Legion while he was on duty." "Oh my god. I didn't know. Is she-" "Boone said that she was dead. I didn't ask how he knew. That didn't seem like something you would make up. Jeannie May was the one who "sold" her to the Legion, and to top it all off, she was carrying his child." Amata's hands almost instinctively reached for her stomach.

"Babe, it's not that I don't think you can handle yourself, or that I don't trust you. I trained you, so I know you can handle yourself. Even with all of us there, no matter how miniscule the risk, how long the odds, I can't risk you getting caught. If something happened to you, I would never be able to forgive myself. You wanted a reason for why I don't want you to come; that's the reason." They both stared straight ahead for a couple of minutes, not saying anything. "Alright, I'll stay," she said. "You will?" He asked, looking at her. "Yeah, I'll stay. I don't like it, but I'll stay. I can see where you're coming from." "Thank you," he said as they kissed. "Babe, you need a shower. You're a hot mess." She punched him in the left arm playfully. "Hey, I said hot. You still look beautiful." They laughed.

There was silence for a few moments. "You don't have to do this, you know," she said, looking at the ground. "Don't have to do what?" "This whole thing with House, and the NCR, and the Legion. This whole trip was about finding the guy who shot you. He's dead, so what's stopping us from going back to Goodsprings?" "Amata, we both know that that's not an option anymore. Say we do go back to Goodsprings. What happens if the Legion takes the dam and forces the NCR out of the Mojave? The Legion would be left unchecked. Sure, Goodsprings isn't that big, but they'll find it eventually, and they'll either kill or enslave all of the residents. Our child, if it's a girl, they'll make her a slave, and if it's a boy, they'll just train him to be one of them. I'd rather be able to be in a position to do something about that from here, with all the resources that House has, than be in a position to not be able to do anything about it. Plus, do you just want to abandon all of our friends upstairs?"

"Dammit, I hate it when you're right," she said. "Well, let's just be glad that it doesn't happen too often then," Mark said, smiling. They kissed. "Alright, I'm going out for a bit," he said as he got up. "Where're you going?" "I'm going to check out a weapons vendor that Cass told me about. When you're done down here, make sure you ice your knuckles, or they're gonna hurt like hell."

The weapons vendor that Mark wanted to check out was a place called "Gun Runners," and it was a small kiosk with a larger building behind it about a half-mile outside of Freeside. Not only did they sell weapons, according to Cass, but they also sold weapon modifications and armor. Mark decided to buy a couple of silencers for his and Amata's 10 mm pistols. He also checked out some armor that was based on pre-war riot armor. He could afford it, but he decided that he didn't need it right now. The remainder of the day was spent getting ready. Mark got in a workout of his own in the gym, and Amata spent most of the day reading and taking a nap. As she promised, Veronica was able to further modify their pip-boys to be able to see where the other one was. Mark and Amata decided to go to bed around 9 pm, since Mark had to get up for 6 am, and Amata wanted to see them off. Mark was hoping to get in a good night's sleep, but that sleep was interrupted around 1:15 am when Amata woke up screaming.

Mark was startled and nearly fell out of the bed. He turned on the light on his nightstand, and saw that Amata was sitting up breathing heavily and crying. "Amata, what's wrong?" "I-I had a ni-night-mare." He pulled her close and started to rub her back. "It's okay. I'm right here. Tell me about it." Just then, the door to their room opened, Boone came in, aiming his pistol, looking for an intruder. He was dressed like he always was, ready to fight. Cass, Veronica and Arcade followed. Cass had her shotgun ready, wearing nothing but her pink shirt and underwear. Veronica had her power fist, and looked like she put on her robe backwards. Arcade was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. "Are you guys alright? We heard someone scream," Veronica said.

"Everything's fine, guys. Amata just had a nightmare. Go back to sleep." They left the room one by one, Cass mumbling something unintelligible. Once the door was closed, Mark asked "what was the nightmare about, babe?" "I- I was in Nipton, and I-I saw you, and my d-dad, and Cass and everyone, and you-you were all strung up on those crosses, and-and it was horrible." "Amata it's all right. I'm right here, and I'm fine. Your dad's back in the vault, and all of our friends are fine. Come on, lay down." They laid back down, Amata's right arm draped across him and her head on his chest, and she had calmed down a bit, although she was still sniffling. They just laid there with the light on. Mark didn't bother to shut it off. Neither of them were going to be getting much more sleep tonight.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. The rifle that Mark gives to Arcade is the Victory Rifle from Fallout 3. Until next time.**


	26. Chapter 26: Separation Anxiety

**Author's Note: I hope that everyone is doing well, and that you are all enjoying the story up to this point. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are welcomed.**

Eventually, Amata calmed down enough to the point where she was able to fall back asleep, albeit while clinging to Mark. Mark didn't mind in the slightest. If that's what she needed to calm down, then so be it. Once Mark saw that she was asleep, he tried to sleep himself, but he got maybe another hour at most. It was like his brain wouldn't shut down for the night. He was starting to have second thoughts about this whole thing, but he shook those away. He was doing this for her, and the baby, to keep both of them safe, just like he did for her in DC. It was going to be painful to leave her here by herself, just like he realized it was painful for her to kick him out of the vault, and just like her kicking him out, this needed to be done.

Mark checked his pip-boy: 5:20 am. He decided to get up, so he slowly peeled Amata's arm off of him, got out of bed, and went into the bathroom. He turned on the light, and looked in the mirror. He realized that he should probably shave off his goatee, because the Legion didn't seem like a group of people that supported individuality. So he applied some shaving cream, and using a straight razor, he shaved it off. Once he was done, he examined himself. The last time he didn't have the goatee, he hadn't left the vault yet. When he went back into the room, the light on Amata's side of the bed was on, and she was sitting up against the headboard. He sat down next to her and kissed her on the cheek.

"You feeling alright, babe?" "Yeah, I'm fine. I don't think I've ever had a dream like that before." "It's alright. I've had nightmares every now and then, and they're scary at first, but then you wake up and realize that it was only a dream, and there's nothing to be scared of." She smiled. "Once I realized that you were still next to me, I knew that there was nothing to be scared of." "Well, you're welcome. Go back to sleep. You don't need to be up." She waved him off. "I said that I was going to see you guys off, and I still intend to." "Ok, but you might want to brush your teeth first, or you'll kill us all with that morning breath before we even leave," he said, semi-seriously. "You're one to talk. Your breath isn't exactly minty fresh at the moment."

(30 minutes later)

Everyone had gotten up, gotten what they needed, and were now waiting in the elevator while Mark talked to Amata, who was in the hall, facing the elevator. "Alright," Mark said to her, "we're leaving now. Once we clear out the camp, I'm gonna have to take off my pip-boy, but I'm gonna leave it with Veronica, okay?" "Okay." "You can track me now, so you'll know exactly where we are. If you need to talk, don't hesitate to call me. Once I leave to go into the Fort, I'll let you know, and I'll do the same once I get back. If you feel like going out, please stay on the Strip." "You better come back in one piece, you hear me?" "Hey, what have I told you? I'll always come back."

His voice dropped to barely above a whisper so only she could hear. "Plus, you know that this isn't the first time I've had to go undercover. Remember what I told you about the Pitt?" She nodded. "Don't worry. I'll be fine," he said, his voice returning to normal. "Mark, I'm your wife. It's my job to worry about you." There was silence for a moment. "I love you," Mark said as he kissed her. "I love you too." "Hey," Cass said from the elevator, "let's get this show on tha road already." Mark and Amata both chuckled. He looked in her eyes. "I'll be home for dinner. I promise." "You want me to make anything?" "If you do, just keep it simple. Remember the last time you tried to cook something fancy?" "I told you, that was an accident. Besides, the fire didn't do that much damage to the house." "You sound just like Moira Brown. Just don't burn this place to the ground, alright?" He gave her another kiss and walked into the elevator. Amata waved at them until the door closed, leaving her in an empty suite.

Once they had left, she made some breakfast and did a little bit of reading. Once she got tired of reading, she put the book down and wondered what else she could do. She found the quietness of the suite a bit unnerving. Growing up in the vault, there was always someone to talk to, whether it was Mark, one of her other friends, or even some of the adults. Even when she came out here with Mark, she would talk with Sunny when they patrolled Goodsprings together. Mark was always willing to listen to her if it was just the two of them, although she was pretty sure that half the time he wasn't really listening, just nodding and agreeing with everything she said. She looked around her and Mark's room. Never in a million years did she think she would ever be living in a place like this, or that a place like this would still exist. She just assumed that she would be living in the vault her entire life, like she had assumed that everyone else had, before Mark and his dad escaped and opened a Pandora's Box of lies and deception.

She looked down at her slowly expanding stomach, and she started to think about the baby again. Even though Mark tried to reassure her that she would be a great mom, she still had her doubts. 'Raising a kid before the war must have been so much easier, with actual laws that prohibited maniacs from running around the streets with guns,' she thought to herself. She put her hands on her stomach and started talking to the baby. "Hey there, little one. You don't know it yet, but, um, I'm your mom. Your dad isn't here right now. He's gone off, trying to make this world just a bit safer for the both of us. He has a tendency to do that sort of thing. He's actually very good at it, but that doesn't mean I don't worry about him constantly, and one day I'm _fairly_ certain he's gonna drive me to insanity. He's also a bit overprotective, sometimes to a fault. I suppose that's not necessarily a bad thing, though. I know that he would move heaven and earth to keep the both of us safe. We are both very lucky to have him."

She looked at her pip-boy: 7:22 am. She wanted to go out, but it was still kind of early for her, so she decided to explore the rest of the hotel. She decided to check out the clothing shops that were on the second floor. There were three separate clothing stores, one for men, one for women, and one for babies and children. There were signs advertising various sales on the windows that faced out into the main corridor. She looked around the men's store first, and saw some shirts that she thought Mark would look good in. After looking around in there for a bit, she went into the women's store. There were a lot of things that she thought she would look good in. They had all types of clothes. She saw the section that had dresses. 'Veronica would probably have a field day if she ever came down and saw all of those,' she thought.

She came to a section that had some very…sexually provocative nightwear. She looked through them. "If I wore any of these, there's no way Mark would be able to keep his hands off of me." She picked out a couple that she really liked and put them over her arm. She decided that she would give him a nice surprise when he got back. She looked to her right, and saw the maternity clothing. She realized that she would need some of those sooner rather than later, since all of her clothes were made for someone with a trimmer figure. She also found it kind of funny that these two sections would be right next to each other, as someone wearing the sexy nightwear would probably lead to someone needing the maternity clothing.

She went back up to her room and put the clothing she picked out onto the bed. After working out for about an hour in the gym, she decided to take a bath. She hadn't taken a bath since she left the vault, although this bathroom was a hell of a lot nicer. She let the tub fill up, and added some soap that was sitting on a shelf next to the tub. Once it was full, she turned off the water, and stripped out of her clothing. She got the radio that was sitting on the desk in their room, and put it on the edge of the sink. She turned it on, took off her pip-boy, and put it next to the radio. As the music on the radio began to play, she slid down into the tub, and let the warm water envelop her. She could feel the muscles in her body relax. She laid back, closed her eyes, and smiled, 'Yep,' she thought, 'I could definitely get used to this.'

(1 hour later, somewhere in the Mojave)

Mark checked his pip-boy. They were about two hours from Cottonwood Cove. He also checked where Amata was, and saw that she was still in the 38. Most everyone had been chatting to pass the time until they got to their destination. Arcade was walking to the right of Mark, and Mark noticed that he looked a bit apprehensive. "Hey, Arcade, you alright?" Mark asked. He gave Mark what looked like a forced smile. "I'm ok. It's that I didn't think that I would ever willingly march to Caesar's front door. Hell, I just met you two days ago, and now I'm helping you kill a bunch of slavers, not that they don't deserve to die, of course. Remind me why I'm doing this again?"

"He got you access to a world-class laboratory to help the Followers," Veronica interjected. "Oh, right." "Arcade," Mark said, "don't worry. You'll be high above the Cove. I'm the one that actually has to infiltrate the Fort." "Right. I still think you're a bit insane for doing this, but I suppose you have your reasons." "Yeah, I do. The only reason that I need is back at the 38 right now."

(Same time, Lucky 38)

Amata opened her eyes and looked around. The bubbles in the tub had all but disappeared, and the water felt lukewarm. 'Huh,' she thought, 'I must have fallen asleep.' She got out of the tub and checked her pip-boy: 10:15 am. She got a towel out of the closet, wrapped it around herself and went back into their room. After getting changed, she decided that she wanted to go out. She remembered that Mark said to stay on the Strip, but she wanted to check out that building in Freeside that had all of that purple neon. Plus, she reasoned, she never _actually_ promised Mark that she would stay on the Strip. She headed towards the elevator, before she remembered that Mark could see where she was now, and he would check in with her before he had to take his pip-boy off.

She realized that she would have to wait until Mark took it off to go out. If he knew that she was in Freeside, he might get distracted worrying about her. Unsure of what to do now, she looked around the room, and decided to do some cleaning. She made the bed, and gathered their dirty clothes. There had to be somewhere to do laundry in this place. She chuckled. "Look at me. Married for two days and I'm already acting like a housewife."

(11:55 AM, Cottonwood Cove)

The six of them stood (or floated, in ED-E's case), on the sniper's nest that Boone had told them about. There was evidence that someone had been here before, with an extinguished campfire and some camouflage netting propped up on a couple of stakes. Mark had a sneaking suspicion that it was probably Boone had probably left this stuff, but he didn't say anything. They were very high up. The Legion soldiers looked like ants from up here. Mark took some binoculars out of his bag and studied the area. The road leading into the Cove was lined with crosses, and Mark could make out some skeletons on a few of them.

He looked into the Cove itself. He could see a two-story building with some sort of cage next to it, presumably where they kept the slaves, but Mark couldn't see any. There were some tents on one side of the building, and there were some derelict buildings on the outskirts of the area. He looked towards where Cottonwood Overlook was, and was about to put the binoculars down, when he did a double take. "Mark," Veronica said, "you ready to do this?" Mark didn't answer as he kept the binoculars fixated on the Overlook. She tapped Mark on the shoulder, and that brought him out of it. "What?" "I asked if you were ready?" "Oh, yeah, I am, but I think we may have lucked out." "How would that be?" she asked. "Look at where I'm pointing. What do you see?" She took the binoculars, and looked. She could see a tractor trailer barely hanging over the edge of the overlook, and on the side it read, "San Onofre Nuclear Generating Station." "Ok, I see that truck, but I'm not sure what you're getting at." she said. "Hey," said Cass, "you wanna tell the rest of us without binoculars what you're talking about?" Mark spoke.

"Hanging over the edge of the overlook is what appears to be an old truck from a nuclear generating station. Given the size of the trailer, it's entirely possible that there is some nuclear waste in there. If we can get that door open, we can let the nuclear waste flood the area, making killing them that much easier." Everyone was staring at Mark like he was crazy. "What?" "Uh, Mark," Arcade said, "if we do that, how the hell are you going to get into the Fort? Assuming that the truck is filled to the brim, that much radiation would kill you, and rad-x won't really do much." "Yeah," said Veronica, "you'd die before you got halfway to the docks." Mark was hesitant to reveal more about his past, but the proverbial cat was out of the bag.

"Yeah, that won't be a problem. I'm sort of…immune to radiation." There was silence for a few moments before Cass spoke. "I'm sorry, I think I jus' heard ya say that yer immune to radiation." "I did." "How is that possible?" asked Veronica, "I mean, if you're a ghoul, then you're the best looking ghoul I've ever seen." She picked at his skin. "Please stop that. I'm not a ghoul. Back east, I was involved in an accident that involved radiation. Long story short, the radiation bonded with me and now I'm immune. Now, it doesn't heal me like it would a ghoul, and as far as I know, I still age normally, it's just that I won't get sick from it." Mark only knew about this immunity because the Brotherhood noticed anomalies in his blood when they tested him while he was in a coma.

"Mark," Arcade said, "when we get back to the 38, do you think I could take some blood samples? The implications of this could be huge!" He sounded excited. "No, Arcade. Whatever I have stays with me." "But-" "No, Arcade." Mark went into his bag and pulled out a small silver tin. He opened it, and inside were a bunch of small, round, pinkish things. Mark took one out and put it in his ear. "What're those?" Cass asked. "Wireless ear pieces. They'll allow us to communicate with each other. Before you ask, I found them scavenging. Now they're all tuned to the same frequency, so we should have no problem keeping in contact." Everyone grabbed one and put them in. "Ok," Mark said, "Boone will stay up here, and the rest of us will go down to the truck. If there is no nuclear waste in the truck, we proceed with the original plan. Otherwise, we let the waste fall and send these bastards to hell."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time.**


	27. Chapter 27: Getting In and Going Out

**Author's Note: As I am writing this, it occurred to me that this is already the 27** **th** **chapter that I've written for this story. I went back and read it from the beginning, and I still can't believe I was able to write this much. Don't worry, though. We still have a long way to go. It also occurred to me that I don't have cover art for this story. I want to do something custom, but unfortunately I have all the artistic ability of a doorknob. If anyone is interested in helping me out, please message me and I'll let you know what I'm looking for in terms of the artwork. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**

It took them twenty minutes to get from the sniper's nest to Cottonwood Overlook. Mark approached the truck, and the Geiger counter on his pip-boy started going crazy. A message appeared: "Warning: Lethal levels of radiation detected. Evacuate the area immediately." Mark smiled and turned to the rest of the group. "Well?" asked Arcade. "We hit the mother lode," Mark said as he showed the rest of them the message. "That should do the trick," Veronica said. Mark approached the back of the truck, which was hanging over the edge. Mark tried to reach the lever on the door of the truck himself, but he realized that he would fall off the cliff if he tried to reach out any further.

"Need a hand, Captain?" Cass asked as Mark turned around. She grabbed his left hand, and leaned over and was able to reach the lever. He tried to move it but to no avail. It appeared to be rusted in place. Cass brought him back onto solid ground, and Mark considered his options. He turned to Arcade. "Did you bring your plasma pistol?" "Of course," he said. "Well, then could you do me a favor and shoot that lever off?" Arcade moved to the edge of the cliff, awkwardly lined up his shot while Mark held him. He took the shot, and a burst of plasma shot out of the gun, and it hit the lever straight on. Mark looked at the door. There was now a hole where the lever used to be. Mark looked down into the cove. He saw no frantic movement, so they likely hadn't been spotted yet.

"Alright," Mark said as he turned to Cass, "let's try this again." She grabbed his left hand again, and he leaned over. He grabbed the hole and gave it a small tug. It seemed willing to cooperate. "Boone, you hear me?" "Loud and clear," came Boone's voice over the earpiece. "Get ready, because the party's about to start." "Copy that." Mark yanked the door up, and Cass pulled him away quickly so that he wouldn't be knocked down with the toxic waste. At least thirty to thirty five barrels of toxic waste fell into the cove, releasing their contents on the unsuspecting Legion soldiers. Mark heard gunshots go off to either side of him, and a loud booming noise, which Mark assumed was Boone's sniper rifle. The toxic waste was having the desired effect, as the Legion soldiers were doubling over in pain, unable to return fire.

A few minutes later, Mark surveyed the area. The Legion soldiers were all dead, either from bullet wounds, radiation poisoning, or both. Mark turned back to the rest of them. "Well, that was fun!" Veronica exclaimed. "If that's your idea of fun, you need your head examined," Arcade said. Mark ignored them, and called Amata on his pip-boy. "Amata, you there?" A voice came through. "Yeah, I'm here Mark." "Alright. We just cleared the cove. I'm taking my pip-boy off now, like we discussed. I'll see you when we get back, alright?" "Ok," Amata said, sounding a bit worried, "please be careful." "Hey, you know me. I love you." "I love you too," she said in response. Mark terminated the transmission and turned to the rest of them. He took off his armor and put it in his bag. He then took off the pip-boy and handed it to Veronica, and gave his assault rifle to Cass.

"Keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't go into Freeside. If she calls and says that she's in trouble, just leave my bag at the sniper's nest and get back there as soon as you can. I'll make my way back." "You got it," Veronica said. "Keep an eye on the road. I don't want any surprises while I'm down there. Copy that, Boone?" "Copy." "Good luck," Cass said. "Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat," Arcade said. "Arcade, I learned a lot of things in the vault, but Latin wasn't one of them, so speak English." "Sorry. It means 'Fortune favors the bold.' "Thank you, Arcade." Mark turned from them and began his descent into the Cove.

(25 minutes later)

Mark walked into the cove and saw all the barrels of toxic waste strewn about, along with the bodies of all the Legion soldiers. Mark found a Legion soldier who didn't have that much vomit or blood on him. Mark took off his shirt, pants, and combat boots. He brought spares in his bag, just in case. As he was taking the clothes off of the soldier, Cass' voice rang in his hear. "Wooo! Yeah, take it off, lover boy. Show me what ya got!" "Cass, is that really necessary?" Veronica asked. "Hey, even you gotta admit he looks damn good with no shirt on." "Yeah…I'm gonna take my earpiece out now," Mark said. He took the earpiece out and left it with his clothes.

The outfit he took consisted of a white pre-war motorcycle helmet with a red stripe running down the middle, sunglasses, a face wrap, a red shirt and skirt, a red chest protector, and calf-high brown boots. He put the chip under the helmet. It was a bit uncomfortable, but he had dealt with worse. He put his 10 mm pistol in the back of the skirt, and made sure it was covered by the shirt. He headed towards the docks. There were a few boats made out of wood tied together, but he also noticed a pre-war boat with an outboard motor. That seemed strange to Mark. He got on the boat to see if the motor still worked. He studied it for a minute. He flipped a small switch on the side of the motor, and then pulled a cord. The engine sputtered for a few moments, before it fully came to life. He grabbed a handle in front of the motor and pushed forward. After he got used to the speed, he went full throttle and began his journey to the Fort.

Veronica, Arcade, and Cass stood on top of Cottonwood Overlook as they watched Mark speed away. As Arcade looked down on Cottonwood Cove, he asked, "So…what do we do now?" "We wait for 'em, brainiac. Right, Veronica?" Veronica didn't answer. "Veronica?" Arcade and Cass looked at Veronica. She was fiddling with Mark's pip-boy. Cass snapped her fingers in Veronica's face. "Veronica, ya with us?" She snapped out of it. "Oh, sorry. I was just looking at this." "I hope that you're just monitoring Amata like he asked, and nothing else," said Arcade. She ignored him.

"It's weird. He has a bunch of encrypted files on here, mostly audio files, by the looks of it. He said that he didn't modify his pip-boy to communicate with Amata until he came out here, but from what I can tell, some of these were from before they came out here. I knew he was hiding something." "Well," said Cass, "can ya un-encrypt 'em or whatever?" "Maybe. Just give me a few-" She didn't finish because Arcade took it from her. "What was that for?" Veronica asked indignantly. "This is Mark's. I'm sure that whatever these files are, they're encrypted for a reason. They're none of our business. If he wants to share them, he will." "Arcade," Veronica said, "he's clearly hiding something big from us." "Everyone has things that they're hiding. Say this was yours. Would you want me going through it and finding out all of your secrets?" Veronica opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Until he comes back, I will hang on to this."

(30 minutes earlier, Lucky 38)

There indeed was a private laundry room in the Presidential Suite for Amata to do some laundry. She had done her own laundry in the vault, and the machines in the 38 were somewhat similar to those, so it didn't take her long to figure out how to use them. Right as she finished putting the laundry away, Mark's voice came over her pip-boy. "Amata, you there?" Amata pressed a button and said, "Yeah, I'm here Mark." "Alright. We just cleared the cove. I'm taking my pip-boy off now, like we discussed. I'll see you when we get back, alright?" "Ok. Please be careful," Amata responded. "Hey, you know me. I love you." "I love you, too." The transmission terminated, and Amata knew that it was safe for her to leave now. After a quick lunch, she took off her pip-boy and left it in their room. She figured Mark would have the rest of them keep an eye on where she was.

She put on her leather armor, which she realized was a bit snugger than it usually was. She was feeling a bit bloated, and noticed her chest had grown a little bit, due to her body getting ready for the baby. She would have to see about getting some less restrictive armor, but this would do for now. She holstered her sidearm. That was all she had at the moment, since Mark had given her hunting rifle to Cass. There were a couple of other more powerful weapons that Mark had kept at the 38, but those were only supposed to be used in emergencies. She went into the elevator, and pressed the button for the casino floor.

She stepped outside and looked around. There was a securitron standing at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the 38, and there were a few NCR troopers staring at one of the Gomorrah hookers across the street. She started walking down the steps when she noticed that another NCR trooper was jogging towards her. She drew her pistol and aimed it at him. "That's far enough," Amata commanded. The trooper stopped in his tracks and held up his hands. "Whoa, calm down. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm only here to deliver a message to the Courier." He pulled out a sealed envelope from the inside of his uniform and showed it to her.

"The Courier?" Amata asked. "Yes ma'am. I was told that he was staying here with a group of other people. "I'm sorry," Amata said, "I think you must have the wrong…" Her voice trailed off as she remembered the radio broadcast from their first night here: "A package courier found shot in the head in Goodsprings…" 'Maybe that's what they're calling Mark now,' she thought. She chuckled. 'I wonder if he knows. He can't get away from those damn nicknames, can he?' She realized that the trooper was staring at her. She snapped out of it. "I'm his wife. I'll give it to him. Who's it from anyway?" "Ambassador Crocker at the NCR Embassy on the other side of the Strip." She approached him and took it from him. She looked at it. It was off-white, with the word 'Courier' written on the front. On the back was a seal embossed with a two-headed bear looking at a star. She put it in her pocket. "I'll see that he gets it." "Thank you ma'am."

She put it in her pocket and proceeded to walk out of the front gate into Freeside. She walked down the street, and she started to feel like maybe it wasn't such a good idea. Every little noise made her jump a bit. She got a weird feeling that something bad was going to happen, so she kept her right hand on her pistol. She thought about heading back, but like Mark told her yesterday, she could handle herself. After walking for about thirty minutes, she came up to the building she was looking for. It read, "King's School of Impersonation," in purple lettering. There were a few guys milling around outside the building dressed up like the Tunnel Snakes, only without the damn jacket. They eyed her suspiciously as she walked into the building.

The room that she first entered had a hardwood floor, and the walls were painted white. There was a bar counter at the back of the room, and a couple of couches to her right. Scattered along the wall around the room were posters of the same man, wearing an oversized rhinestone jumpsuit, black sunglasses, and black, pompadour styled hair. A few more of the guys like the ones outside were standing around, talking to each other. Straight ahead of her was another one of the men, although he was wearing a dark blue jacket with a number stitched over the breast pocket, and he was standing next to a door. She approached the man.

"Well, well," the man said in an accent Amata didn't recognize, "who do we have here? Another petitioner for the King?" "Who's the King?" Amata asked. The man looked taken aback. "Who's the King? Who's the King? The King is the law and order of Freeside. He keeps order in the streets like no one else can. You better show some respect, missy." Amata felt an instant dislike for this man. "Whoa, what's with the attitude? I just asked a damn question. I'm new to the area. I was just checking this place out." "Yeah," said the man, displeasure in his voice, "we've had a lot of 'new people' to the area lately, and we don't want 'em, so you best be on your way," he said, waving her off dismissively. That cinched it. Now she definitely wasn't leaving. She crossed her arms and stood her ground. "No. I'm not leaving until you let me meet this 'King' guy that you're talking about."

"Missy, don't make me hit you. I've never hit a girl before, but I just might make an exception in your case." "Yeah, well, I don't want to have to embarrass you in front of your friends by beating you up, so let me pass." "Alright, missy, I gave you fair warning." He balled his right hand into a fist, and aimed for her face. To his surprise, and to the surprise of everyone in the room, she reached up and grabbed his fist with her left hand and held it there. That just made him even angrier, and tried to punch her with his left hand, but she caught that as well. A look of shock came across his face as he realized the predicament he was in. He looked at her face, and she gave him a mischievous smile.

She held his arms down in front of his chest, brought him close, and kneed him twice in the gut. Then she threw his arms down to his sides, turned sideways, planted her left foot, and with her right, delivered a swift kick to his chest. He slammed back into the wall, and fell onto the ground. Out of her peripheral vision she saw another man running towards her with his fist raised. He swung, but she ducked out of the way. He tried again, but Amata grabbed him by the wrist and crook of his elbow, flipped him over her head and slamming him hard into the ground. She looked at the rest of the men in the room. "Anyone else wanna go?" Seeing their friends on the ground, and the ease at which she put them there, the rest of them ran out of the room. "Yeah," she said as she smiled, "that's what I thought. Punks."

The door that was being guarded by the first man swung open, and another man came out. His face was the spitting image of the man in the posters. "Dammit, what the hell is going on out here?" He saw the two guys on the floor, and Amata standing over them. "Who are you?" the man asked. "Are you the King?" "Yes I am, and I ask again, who are you?" "My name's Amata. Let me ask you a question, Mr. King. Are your guys always rude to new people?" "Rude?" He noticed that she was looking at the man in the blue jacket near the door.

Realization dawned on him. "Pacer, what the hell did you do? We talked about this. Does she look like a squatter to you?" Pacer struggled to get to his feet. "King, she attacked me." "Oh, no," Amata said, "he threw a punch at me first. I was just defending myself." He looked at Pacer. "Pacer, is that true? And don't lie to me." He looked nervous. "Well, yes, but…" "No buts, Pacer. If you attacked first, then she was completely justified. We'll have words later. Right now, get out of my sight." He looked like he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue. He glared at Amata, before going through a door on the right side of the room. "Sorry about that, miss," the King said as he held the door open for her, "please come in." Amata walked through, and he closed the door behind him. There were at least fifteen small round tables with chairs surrounding them, and a small stage with a moth-eaten red curtain behind it. There were also some spotlights hanging above the stage. There was a man on stage singing a song that Amata didn't recognize. The King led her to a table near the stage, and they both sat down. "Can I get you something to drink?" "Water, please." The King snapped his fingers, and one of the Kings that was in the room came over. "Two waters, Jimmy." Jimmy nodded, and came back a minute later with two bottles of water.

"Sorry about Pacer. He can be a bit of a hothead. I'll talk to him later. We've had a lot of squatters come into the area lately. Probably mistook you for one of 'em." "It's fine. He was probably just mad that I beat his ass." The King laughed. "I like you. So, you know who I am. Mind introducing yourself properly? "Oh, sorry, right. My name is Amata Franklin." "Well Miss Franklin-" "It's actually Mrs. Franklin," Amata said, interrupting him. "My apologies. So, Mrs. Franklin, what brings you to my humble abode?" "I'm new to the area. I was doing some exploring, and this place looked interesting."

"Yeah," said the King, "we thought the same thing when we first found this place. All of these posters and outfits devoted to this one guy. We thought it was some kind of place of worship." "Do you know the name of the guy?" Amata asked. "Nah. We never found anything with names. We found some holotapes of him singing when we first found this place, but they wore out a long time ago. I think me and Pacer are the only ones who remember what he sounds like." He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of water. "Enough about the past. So, did you move here with your husband?" "Yeah, him, plus a few other people we met along the way." "Whereabouts are you living, if you don't mind me asking." "The Lucky 38."

The King sat up straight in his chair and stared at her. "Wait, you live in the Lucky 38?" Amata nodded. "Would your husband happen to be the Courier?" "Well, I guess that's what they're calling him, but his name's Mark." The King rubbed his chin. "Hmm…since you're his wife, you must have his ear, I assume." "Umm…I guess you could say that." "I've actually wanted to have a word with him." 'That seems to be happening a lot today,' thought Amata. "If it's not too much of a problem, could you let him know I would like a moment of his time to talk some business?" "Well, he's kinda busy at the moment, but I will be more than happy to let him know. Thank you for your hospitality, but I probably should get going." She got up, as did the King.

He walked with her to the front door. "Since you're gonna pass on my message, I'll have my boys watch out for you when you're in Freeside. If you're heading back to the Strip, keep on the main road. Don't go on any side streets. We try to keep some order, but it's still dangerous." "Thank you, King." She opened the door. "Have a nice day, little missy." He said, as the door closed.

When Amata was a little under halfway towards the Strip, she got a feeling that someone was following her. She took out her pistol and turned around. She couldn't see anyone in the immediate area, so she turned back around and kept walking, her pistol at the ready. After walking for another minute or so, she heard a noise behind her. She turned around, and all she saw was a fist connecting with her face. She stumbled backwards, and her foot got caught in a pothole. She fell to the ground, her head hitting the pavement, knocking her unconscious.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Again, I'm looking for anyone interested in doing some custom cover art for this story, so please message me if you are interested. Until next time.**


	28. Chapter 28: Failure to Communicate

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is doing well. We're now over 8,000 views, and that got me thinking. What was your favorite part of the story so far? Obviously I like the entire story, but I'll freely admit I enjoyed writing some parts more than others. I'd seriously like to hear from you guys about your favorite part, either as part of a review or as a PM. Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and reviews are welcome and appreciated.**

About a half hour later, Mark reached Fortification Hill. He guessed it would have taken him about an hour if he had taken one of the wooden boats. As he pulled up to the Fort, he pulled the boat around so that the back of the boat faced towards the Fort in case he needed to make a quick getaway. He killed the engine and got out of the boat. As he passed by the gatekeeper, the man said "Ave, true to Caesar," and pounded his chest with his right hand. Mark returned the gesture, and said, "Ave, true to Caesar," as well. The fences that surrounded the outer perimeter of the Fort were large wooden stakes bound together, and they were at least fifteen feet high.

As he started his walk into the Fort, he saw a rock ledge with more crosses and half-decayed bodies on them. 'Well,' Mark thought as he began his search, 'at least I know that I'm in the right place.' Mark began to walk up a small hill that most likely led to the rest of the Fort. As he walked, he noticed the slaves. They were wearing extremely dirty rags with red x's painted on the front and back. He briefly flashed back to Paradise Falls in DC, where he had to rescue a couple of kids so that he could get into Little Lamplight. He had been able to kill all of those slavers and save the kids, but there were only a handful of slavers there, and there were a hell of a lot more here, so rescuing the slaves right now was out of the question, no matter how much he wanted to.

He walked into the main area of the Fort, and looked around. There were some smaller tents to his left, and to his right were larger tents, obviously set up for eating. He observed the soldiers here. The equipment they were wearing was much different from the equipment at Nipton and Cottonwood Cove. While that equipment had been old-world sports equipment, the breastplates and helmets here looked to be made out of some type of metal, and they were ornately decorated. He doubted his pistol would be able to do much damage against them, so he would have to tread lightly. He looked to his right, and did a double take. The hill that he was standing on overlooked at least a thousand tents, at least that was all that Mark was able to see. He had figured that to give the NCR trouble, the army would have to be large, but actually seeing it surprised him a bit.

He continued to walk, and saw a long tent on a small hill in the middle of the Fort. Outside the entrance was a guard, and hanging above the entrance was golden plaque with a side view of a man's head. The man wore a crown of leaves, but he was otherwise bald. Mark noticed that his nose was crooked. He saw the tent flap open, and out stepped the man from the plaque. He wore a white shirt with a red sash across it, and was wearing a red skirt and brown sandals. 'I guess that's Caesar,' Mark thought. From where Mark was, he could probably kill him with his pistol, but he wasn't here for that right now. Plus, with all of the soldiers around, he would probably be killed before he could take two steps.

He walked around to the back of the tent, and after walking for another ten minutes, at the bottom of the hill he saw what was likely the weather monitoring station that House talked about. It was a squat, one-story concrete building with an antennae sticking out of the top of it. He walked down the hill, and to his left were some storage tents filled with crates, and to his right were more tents. As he reached the front door of the station, Mark looked around. He could hear some soldiers training off in the distance, but there were none in the immediate area. He took his silenced 10 mm pistol out from the back of the skirt, held it behind his back, and opened the door slowly.

He saw two men wearing capes with their back tuned to the door. The room itself was barely lit, but Mark could see computer consoles on either side of the room. As soon as Mark closed the door, the two men turned around and looked at him. The one to Mark's left spoke. "Halt. No one is allowed in here without the express-" He never got to finish, because Mark shot both of them in the head, since neither of them decided to wear helmets that day. "Sorry boys," Mark said as he put his pistol into the back of the skirt, "don't have time for any formalities today." Mark dragged both bodies into a corner where they were out of the direct line of sight of anyone coming in. He looked around the room, looking for the slot that this supposedly went in.

He checked the console on the right, and after looking for a minute or so, he found a slot roughly the size of the chip. He took off his helmet and grabbed the chip, and slid it in. It disappeared into the console. At first, nothing happened, but then a hatch in the right corner of the room opened up, revealing a staircase. Mark looked down, taking out his pistol just in case. As he walked down, Mark heard the hatch close above him. He came to a landing that had a computer setup similar to the one at the 38. Mark took off the face wrap, sunglasses and helmet, and tossed them over to the side. "House? You here?" House's face appeared on the monitor. "Well, Mr. Franklin, you made it here in one piece. Well done." "Ok, House," Mark said, "so what do I do now?"

"As I stated before, the remainder of my securitron force is housed here. They are currently inactive, but the chip will activate their programming sequences. The console to do that is on the other side of the facility, but there is a bit of a… complication." "There always is. What is it, House?" "While I can broadcast to this screen, the various malfunctions that left me in a coma also severed my control of the facility, meaning I cannot disable any security, most of which is still active, according to what I'm looking at." Mark sighed and rubbed his temple. "House, you're a smart man. I'm guessing you had some type of override installed on-site in case something like that happened. Am I in the ballpark?" "As it so happens, I did. At the bottom of the stairs is a small room with a few computers that should help you in disabling security." "All right House, I'm on it." "Very good. You've come this far. I would hate for this to be all for naught. With that, House's face disappeared, with the words 'connection lost' appearing on the screen.

(Same time, Freeside)

Amata opened her eyes, but her vision was fuzzy. She saw the outline of someone standing over her. "Mark?" she called out weakly. She tried to lift her arms and her head, but they felt like they were weighted down. The man was yelling something; "…get her to the Fort! King's orders!" Amata couldn't make sense of it, and blacked out again.

(Fortification Hill)

Mark began his descent down another set of stairs when he heard a robotic voice. "HALT. THIS AREA IS UNDER LOCKDOWN. TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT. LETHAL FORCE AUTHORIZED. Mark went flat against the wall and looked down. When he saw what it was, he exhaled. It was just a protectron. It was grey, and it had a vaguely humanoid shape, with two arms and two legs, and had a glass dome where its head would be. They were also notoriously slow. He had faced and killed many of them before. He aimed his pistol and took the shot. It went through the glass dome on its head, and it fell over. "SHUTTING DOWN. REQUEST BACK-" That was all it was able to say before it shut down for good. He stepped over it and continued down the stairs. He came to a hallway that led deeper into the facility, and on the other side was a small room. There were some lockers directly in front of him, and to his right were three computers on the wall. One was labeled "Protectrons," one was labeled "Turrets," and the last one was labeled, "Sentry Bots."

Mark walked up to the one labeled "Sentry Bots," and attempted to turn it on. Nothing happened. He pressed some keys and whacked the side, but it wouldn't turn on. "Well, that can't be good." He fared much better with the other two computers. The computers were the same models as the ones he hacked in DC, so it took him no time at all to shut down the protectrons and turrets. Once that was done, he took out his pistol and started down the hallway.

He entered the first room, and Mark got a sense of déjà vu. It was dimly lit, but it looked eerily similar to the vault. There was a window to the left of him, so he went over and looked out of it. When he saw what was on the other side, his jaw dropped. There were rows upon rows upon rows of securitrons. They were all immobile, and there was nothing on their screens. 'Those must be the securitrons House talked about,' thought Mark. He reasoned that there were probably a lot more than this elsewhere in the facility. He turned around and saw something in the corner. He pulled out his pistol and aimed, until he realized that it was one of the turrets he deactivated. He chuckled to himself and ventured onwards. He walked up a couple of sets of stairs, and past the deactivated turrets and protectrons, but he didn't see any sentry bots. Something wasn't sitting right with him. This seemed way too easy, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He reached the other end of the facility. There was a computer console, and another window. Mark looked out the window and saw more securitrons waiting to be activated. He walked over to the console and looked for where the platinum chip was supposed to go. He found the slot, and put the chip in. It disappeared into the console, and Mark heard a loud rumbling noise, like machines were being activated. The platinum chip came back out, and Mark grabbed it. He made his way back to the console on the other side of the facility, where House was waiting for him. "Well done, Mr. Franklin. Come back to the 38, where we can discuss our next steps." With that, House cut out.

Mark grabbed the helmet, put the chip back on his head, and secured the helmet. He then put back on the face wrap and sunglasses, and made his way back up the stairs. The hatch re-opened, and Mark had his pistol ready, just in case there was anyone waiting. He walked back up the stairs and into the weather station, but there was no one there, except for the two soldiers he killed earlier. He went to the door that led outside, and opened it slowly. He looked around, and saw that there was no one waiting out there, either. He made his way cautiously back to the docks. He was still having that feeling that things were going too smoothly.

He got back to the docks and was about to get back in the boat, when the Legionnaire he passed on his way in said, "Halt!" Mark turned around and faced him. "Is there a problem?" Mark asked. "I received no orders for anyone to leave. Where are you going?" Mark got up in the man's face. "I am on a mission that is none of your concern. I will be leaving now." Mark turned to leave when the Legionnaire grabbed him by the shoulder, spun him around, and punched him in the face. Mark staggered a bit, and the sunglasses Mark was wearing snapped in half, so he took them off and threw them on the ground. The Legionnaire came at him again, but this time Mark was ready, as he deflected the punch and punched the Legionnaire in his face. They then started trading punches.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw more Legion soldiers coming down the hill, swords drawn. He knew he needed to end this. The Legionnaire had pulled off the face wrap that Mark was wearing. Mark elbowed him in the face, which caused him to stagger. Mark pulled out his pistol and shot him in the gut. The Legion soldier fell to the ground, giving Mark the opening he needed. He ran to the boat, flipped the switch, and pulled the cord. The boat wouldn't start. He saw the Legion soldiers getting closer. He pulled it again. Nothing. He whacked it and pulled the cord again, and it finally started. He grabbed the throttle and pushed it forward, and watched as the Legion soldiers could do nothing but stare at him as he sped away.

(30 Minutes later, Sniper's Nest)

Cass was starting to get a bit antsy. "He's been gone fer an hour-an-a-half. What if they killed 'em? Are we jus' gonna wait here all day?" "He's not dead," Boone said, matter-of-factly. 'Oh, and how would ya know that?" Boone looked through the binoculars at the docks. "He's smart, and he can fight. He wouldn't do anything that would risk exposing himself unless absolutely necessary." "He better not be dead," Arcade said, "or otherwise we'll have to break the news to Amata, and that's a conversation I'd rather not have." "Wait," Boone said, "I see something." The others gathered on the edge and looked down. They saw a boat pull into the docks. "It's him," Boone said. Sure enough, Mark had arrived back, a little bruised, but otherwise fine. He waved on their general direction to let them know it was him.

Mark grabbed the earpiece and made his way back up to the nest. When he got back up there, Veronica nearly tackled him. "You're okay!" "Yes," said Mark, "but I won't be if you don't stop squeezing me." "Oh, sorry," she said as she let him go. "So," said Cass, did ya do what ya needed ta do?" "Yep," he said as he took the Legion disguise off and put his spare boots, clothes, and his armor back on. "Where's my pip-boy?" Mark asked, looking at Veronica. "Right here," Arcade said as he gave it to Mark, who put it back on his left arm. "Wait, why didn't Veronica have it?" "Well, she-" "It's not important," Veronica said, interrupting him, "but what is important is that you're alive, and you'll be glad to know Amata never left the Strip. Now, let's get the hell out of here." "Seconded," Arcade said.

Mark pushed a button on the pip-boy. "Amata, come in. It's Mark." They waited, but there was only silence. "Amata, can you hear me?" Still nothing. He tried typing in a message and sent it. They waited a few minutes, but there was no response. "Something's wrong," Mark said with worry in his voice. "Not necessarily," Arcade said, "maybe she just took it off." "I doubt it. You wear these things for long enough and eventually you don't even realize that you're wearing it anymore. Something feels seriously wrong. We need to double time it." "Mark," Cass said, "ya don't know-" "DON'T TELL ME THAT I DON'T KNOW," Mark yelled, "SHE IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE. SHE ALWAYS RESPONDS TO ME. WE NEED TO GO, NOW!" His face was inches from Cass.

"Look, lover boy," Cass said, her voice rising, "don't make me pound you." "I'd like to see you try," Mark said sarcastically. Cass raised a fist, but Boone grabbed her arm. "Stop it, both of you! This is not the time for this!" Boone said in an authoritative voice. "He's right," Veronica said. She turned to Cass. "Cass, if he says something's wrong, I believe him. When you're in love, you just get that feeling. And _you,"_ she said, turning towards Mark, pointing a finger at him, a scowl on her face, "We are your friends. We wanna keep her safe, too. Don't you _dare_ insinuate that we don't care. Now if you two are done having a pissing match, we need to hurry." She turned away from them and headed back in the direction of the Strip.

 **Ooh, there's some tension in the air. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and please keep reviewing. Until next time.**


	29. Chapter 29: Our Vulnerable Sides

**Author's Note: It was pointed out to me by a guest reviewer that sometimes it was difficult in the story to determine who was talking when I have two or more people having a conversation. I looked it over and saw a couple of parts where they may have had a point. I will try my best to make sure everyone knows who is saying what in the future. Enjoy, and reviews are always welcome.**

(Old Mormon Fort, 2 hours later)

Amata struggled to open her eyes. Her head was pounding, and she felt a bit queasy. Once she got her eyes open, and once her vision cleared, she saw something white. 'Where the hell am I, and why does my head hurt?' she thought. The only thing she knew for a fact was that she was lying down. She turned her head slightly to the left, and saw two people talking to each other. Julie Farkas and The King were talking. Amata tried to get up when the two of them noticed her. Julie walked over. "Don't try to get up. Please lie back down," she said. Amata ignored her and sat up, regretting it instantly when she felt the world start to spin. She looked like she was about to fall off of the cot she was laying on, but Julie caught her and got her to lie back down.

"I warned you not to get up," Julie said. Amata held a hand over her eyes and asked weakly, "Where-where am I?" "You're at the Old Mormon Fort, sweetie," Julie said. 'Well, that answers one question,' Amata thought. "What happened? Why does my head hurt?" The King, who had been waiting near the entrance of the tent, spoke up. "You were attacked and knocked unconscious. Couple of my boys saw it and told me. Told 'em to get you here on the double." "How long was I out?" "It's been a couple of hours, at least," Julie said. "King," Amata said, "if your boys saw it, then who attacked me?" The King hesitated. "You know what," he said, "you need your rest. I'll, uh, I'll come back later." The King made a turn to walk out of the tent when Amata said, "King, wait." He turned around.

"You said you wanted to speak to my husband about some business. Now, I could not tell him, and even if you got to him first, I have ways to dissuade him. He may be a bit hard-headed, but he's also very protective of me. I know him, and if he thinks that I'm afraid of you guys, there's no way he'll want anything to do with you. I mean, my memory is a bit fuzzy, but maybe I'll _suddenly_ remember that it was one of your guys who attacked me. He listens to me more than anyone else. You give me what I want, and you'll get what you want." There was no expression on his face for a couple of seconds, but then he gave her a small smile. "So that's how it's gonna be, huh?" Amata just smirked at him. "I knew there was a reason that I liked you." He sighed. "All right, before I tell you, know this: I have the person responsible being guarded, so he's not going anywhere. You have to promise me that you'll stay here and rest, because Julie thinks that you have a concussion. Ok?" Amata nodded. "It was Pacer."

Amata started to seethe in anger, but calmed back down a bit when her head started pounding. "Pacer, that idiot who was rude to me at your headquarters, he attacked me?" The King nodded. "I'm gonna fucking kill him." Amata tried to get up, but Julie pushed her back down. "You're not going anywhere. You have a concussion. You need to rest," Julie said. "She's right. Like I said, he isn't going anywhere, and you just promised me you'd stay here. You told me before that your husband was busy. Do you know where he is? If he's anywhere in Freeside, I can have my boys find him."

Amata brought her left arm up to check her pip-boy, when she remembered that she had left it at the 38. 'Fuck,' she thought, as she brought her left arm back down to her side. 'Brilliant job, Amata. You just had to prove to Mark that you didn't need him to watch your back, and then you go ahead and get knocked unconscious. He's probably on his way back here now, thinking you're dead or something since you didn't answer him. Really, brilliant fucking job.' "No, King, he's not in Freeside. He should be back at some point tonight, though." "Ok," said the King, "I'll post my boys at both gates to Freeside, and when he gets back, we'll get him. I just need to know what he looks like."

"Um, he's about 6' 2", wearing green armor, has shaggy brown hair, and he's got a scar on the left side of his head. Oh, and he's traveling with a few other people." "Thanks," he said, "I'll put the word out." "Uh, King," Julie said, "I don't mean to be rude, but I don't want her over-exerting herself right now." "Sorry Julie," he said, looking at her. He looked back to Amata. "I'm gonna go now, but I've got a couple of my guys guarding this tent, and I've told them to protect you by any means necessary, ok?" "Thank you, King," Amata said. "Think nothing of it, little missy." With that, he turned and left the tent.

(Same time, 2 hours from Freeside)

The walk back to Freeside was mostly quiet, but in a bad way. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Mark and Cass were kept as far away from each other as possible, with the rest of them acting as a buffer. Arcade tried to break the silence a couple of times, but when no one responded, he gave up. Mark looked at Cass with a scowl, but she just kept staring straight ahead. 'How dare she tell me that I don't know when something's wrong with Amata,' he thought. 'None of them have any goddamn idea what I've been through, all the shit I've done, only to almost lose her. I'll be damned if I lose her now.' As he continued to walk, he drifted back to what happened after he was kicked out of the vault, the last time he thought he lost her.

(Megaton, three days after getting thrown out of the Vault)

Mark was awoken by someone knocking on the door to his house in Megaton. He snorted, and tried to turn over, only to fall on the floor. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, and he realized he wasn't in his bedroom. He had passed out on the couch, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and his underwear. He rubbed his head, as it was pounding like hell, and his mouth was dry. He checked the time on his pip-boy: 10:43 am. There was another knock on the door, followed by someone speaking. "Hey, kid, you alive in there?" It was Sheriff Simms. "Go 'way Simms," Mark said groggily as he lifted himself off of the floor. "Are you alright, kid? No one's seen you in three days, and people are starting to worry, myself included. Can you open the door?" "I said _go away,_ Simms. M'fine." "Kid, either open the door or I'll bust it down. Your choice."

Mark sighed and staggered over to the door. He opened the door, and saw Sheriff Simms. "See, Simms, I'm fine, now please go away." Mark went to close the door, but Simms held it open. "Kid, you're not fine. Can I come in?" Mark rolled his eyes, and motioned for him to come in. Simms looked around the house. There was a lot of empty beer bottles scattered around the room, some of them broken. It also reeked of alcohol. He also noticed that Wadsworth was motionless in a corner. "What's happened to the robot?" "Shh," Mark said, putting a finger to his lips while trying to contain his laughter, "he's sleeeeping." Mark stumbled as he made his way back to the couch. Mark had been drinking heavily since he returned from the vault, and Wadsworth complained so much about the mess that Mark put him in hibernation mode.

"Kid, are you drunk?" Simms asked, looking at Mark, whose hair was disheveled, and whose eyes were bloodshot. "Technically I'm hung over, since I haven't had a drink in oh, five, six hours." "Mark," Simms said, sitting on the stairs, "no one's seen or heard from you for three days. Three days ago you said you were going back to the vault. What happened?" Mark looked for a bottle of beer around him with something in it, but found none. "Didn't you hear Sheriff?" Mark said sarcastically, waving his arms demonstratively, "I'm a hero! I saved the fucking vault! Amata, my best friend, is now in charge, taking over for her psychopathic father! Everything's fucking great!" "Um, correct me if I'm wrong, kid, but from what you've told me about the place, isn't it a good thing that your friend took over?" "Oh yeah, Sheriff," Mark said, suddenly frowning and pointing a finger at Simms, "you would think that, wouldn't you? You wanna know what I got for saving their collective ass? Exile. My best friend of twenty fucking years exiled me from my own damn home, because I'm the reason the vault went to shit in the first place."

"So you think that she was wrong, and that she should have let you stay?" "No, Sheriff, that's not fucking it. In fact, it's the exact opposite. She said she didn't blame me _or_ my dad for what happened, and she was god damn right that I had to leave. Me being there was only going to make things worse." "So, did you tell her that you understood why you couldn't stay?" "No Sheriff, I didn't. I just fucking went off on her, saying everything short of telling her to go fuck herself." "Couldn't you go back and just apologize to her? I'm sure she knows that you were just angry and needed some time to think about things." Mark started to laugh. "After the way I acted? Firstly, she's probably already changed the door code, and even if I got through that, she'd probably have me shot on sight. Fuck, she'd probably want to do it herself." Mark picked up and empty beer bottle and threw it at the wall, and it shattered on impact.

"So let me just see if I understand what's going on," Simms said. "You went back to the vault, and saved it from descending into any further anarchy. Then your best friend, the girl you won't stop talking about, exiles you from your home, even though she doesn't blame you or your old man for what happened. You have an argument with her, and then you come back here, and for the past three days, you've been locked in here, drinking yourself into a stupor. To top it all off, you're angry, not because she kicked you out when you thought you deserved to stay, but because you knew she was right, and you think that your relationship with her is over. Did I miss anything?"

"Nope, that's about the gist of it, Simms," Mark said as he got up and got some water out of the fridge. Simms started to chuckle. "You think this is _funny_ , Sheriff?" Simms didn't answer, offering a question of his own. "Kid, are you in love with her?" "It doesn't fucking matter, Sheriff. Nothing's ever gonna happen," Mark said as he rubbed his eyes. "I think it does. If she didn't mean anything to you, then you wouldn't have locked yourself in here. _Do you love her?"_ Mark didn't say anything. "Mark-" "YES, I'M IN LOVE WITH HER," Mark yelled. "She's- she's perfect, she's the only girl I wanted to be with, and I royally fucked up." He started to cry. "My one ch-chance at love, and now it's g-g-gone." Simms looked at Mark sympathetically. If there was any proof that God existed, it was evident in the fact that the mighty Lone Wanderer was sitting in front of him, half-drunk, and bawling like a baby over a woman.

"Kid, I can't tell you what to do," Simms said as he grabbed his Chinese Assault Rifle and walked to the door. "These days, true love is hard to find, and keeping it is even harder. If she cares for you like you care for her, then she'll forgive you. Kid, you're lucky. She's sitting safely in a vault, and not wandering out in the wastes where she could get killed." Simms opened the door. "You've only got one life. Don't make it one of regret." He paused. "I'll, uh, I'll let everyone know you're alive. You don't have to come out, but at least promise me you'll take a shower. You smell like you took a bath in all of that beer." With that, Simms went outside and closed the door, leaving Mark alone with his thoughts.

Mark just sat on the couch, holding the bottle of water in his right hand. Despite what Simms had said, he still didn't think he could repair his relationship with her. He was pretty sure he had burned that bridge. 'I need to get the hell out of town,' he thought. 'Maybe the Brotherhood has some mission that I could help them with.' He went to the HAM Radio on the side table next to the couch and tuned it to the Brotherhood's frequency.

"This is the Lone Wanderer calling the Brotherhood. I repeat, this is the Lone Wanderer calling the Brotherhood, over" There was static for a few seconds, when someone answered. "Go ahead Wanderer. This is Scribe Marquez, over" "Hey, uh, Marquez, is Sentinel Lyons around? Over." "Yeah," Marquez said, "I think she's around here somewhere, hang on. Over" Mark waited for a few minutes, before someone came back on the other end. "This is Sentinel Lyons. Go ahead Mark. Over." "Hey, Sarah, how are you doing? Over." "I'm fine. How about you? Over." "I've uh, I've been better. Sarah, listen, does the Brotherhood have any missions planned right now? I need something to keep my mind occupied right now. Over"

"Well, as a matter of fact, my father has organized a trip to the west coast so we can try to reconnect with the other chapters out there. You're more than welcome to join us. Over." "That sounds great, Sarah. When're you guys leaving? Over." "In about four, five days. We're still figuring out the details, but I'll let you know when we have specifics. Over." "Thanks, Sarah. I'll be here. Over and out." Mark leaned back in the sofa, rubbed his face, and groaned. "I'm so sorry, Amata."

(Back to the present)

By the time they saw the east gate to Freeside, it was close to 7:30. Once Mark saw the gate, he broke into a dead sprint. It took the others a couple seconds to realize what he was doing, and had to start running to keep up with him. At this point, there was only one thing on his mind: making sure that Amata was alright. 'Hang on, baby. I'm on my way.'

 **I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. To all of you who celebrate it, have a happy Easter. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**


	30. Chapter 30: A Calm Heart Must Prevail

**Author's Note: I hope everyone had a happy Easter. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**

As soon as they came upon Freeside's east gate, a member of the Kings saw a man that matched the description given to them by the King, and he attempted to stop him. "Hey, are you-" He didn't get to finish because Mark ran right past him and didn't stop. He didn't have time for any of this "Courier" crap right now. The rest of them ran past the Kings member and towards the Strip. The rest of them were having trouble keeping up with Mark, so much so that by the time that they got to the 38, Mark was already waiting in the elevator, holding it open for the rest of them.

Once they were all inside, the door closed and they started to rise towards the Presidential Suite. The doors had barely started to open when Mark ran out and yelled out, "AMATA!" He flung the door to their room open. He looked around the entire room, but the only thing that he found was her pip-boy. "Dammit," he said, as he grabbed the pip-boy. Mark came out of the room, where the others were waiting. "Is she all right?" Veronica asked. "She wasn't in there. We need to search the rest of the floor." They did a thorough search, but they came up empty. "She isn't here," Arcade said, as they met back in the hallway. "What do we do now?" asked Cass.

Mark put both of his hands on the top of his head and scowled in frustration. "I don't know, I don't know." Without thinking, he turned and punched the wall as hard as he could. The punch had left an indentation in the wall. It didn't hurt at the moment, but once the adrenaline wore off, he knew it was going to hurt, but at the moment he didn't really care. He was about to do it again when someone grabbed his arm in mid swing. He looked over his shoulder, and saw that it was Cass. "Hey," she said, releasing his arm, which he dropped, "we're gonna find her. Now breathe, an' think. Did she say anythin' about goin' somewhere before we left?"

Mark thought back to this morning. "No. I told her that if she wanted to go out, to stay on the Strip…" Mark's voice trailed off as something dawned on him. "Of course she would do that," Mark said to himself. "Do what?" Veronica asked. "She thinks that I've been babying her lately, and of course, since I told her to stay on the Strip, she's gonna do exactly the opposite. She went into Freeside, I just know it. Hang on; I need to go talk to House."

Once the elevator to the Penthouse opened, Mark ran past Jane and down the stairs. He arrived into House's office. "House?" Mark called out. Mr. House appeared on the monitor. "Very well done, Mr. Franklin. Your next task is to-" Mark interrupted. "Hang on, House. I have a couple of questions." "Oh, you do, do you?" "I assume that you have security cameras all around the Strip, am I correct?" Mark asked. "Yes, but that is none of your concern," House said. "Second question. Did any of them show Amata going into Freeside?" "Mr. Franklin," House said, sounding a bit annoyed, "do I need to remind you that you work for me, and not the other way around? You will do as I ask, or I will find someone else who will. As for you wife, I'm sure that your friends will be able to find her."

"House," Mark said, trying to control his anger, "I understand that you have things that need to be done, but my friends haven't known her since they were babies. My friends didn't grow up with her. None of my friends are married to her. I am married to her. If I don't know that she's safe and sound, then I'm not going to be able to focus on whatever task that you give me. I need to find her." House was silent for a few moments. "Very well. Here is the last footage that I have of her." House's face disappeared, and time-stamped security footage came up. It looked like it came from a securitron at the Strip's entrance. He could see Amata walking into Freeside. The timestamp said that it was 12:46 pm. House's face came back on the screen. "That is the last security footage that I have of her."

"Thanks, House," Mark said as he ran back towards the elevator. House called after him, and Mark stopped. "Just so we are clear, as soon as things are settled with her, I expect you right back here. Understood?" "Understood, House," Mark said as he made his way to the elevator. When the elevator opened to the Presidential Suite, Mark held out his arm to keep the door from closing. "Hey, hey, hey, everyone, let's go, let's go, let's go," Mark called out. Everyone came out of the kitchen. "What's going on?" Veronica asked. "Did she go into Freeside?" "Yes," said Mark, "House has security footage of her leaving the Strip this afternoon, but not coming back, so we have to assume she's still out there, and possibly hurt. Boone, I need you to provide over-watch from the balcony. It should give you a clear view of Freeside." Boone clutched his sniper rifle, and said, "Got it."

Mark took the small tin with the wireless earpieces out, and they all took one. They all got in the elevator, except for Boone, who was staying here, and ED-E, who would meet them on the ground. "Ok, so here's the plan. We'll start at the Old Mormon Fort. If she's hurt, she would have likely gone there first. If she's not there, then we search the rest of Freeside until we find her. Arcade, I may need you to expedite some things at the Fort if she's there, since you're one on the Followers." "Of course," Arcade said. They reached the casino floor, and headed towards the front door. As they exited the Strip, Mark called Boone over the earpiece. "Boone, we've just gone into Freeside. Copy?" "Roger that. I've got eyes on you."

When they got to the Fort, Mark looked around. There were old construction lights hooked up to generators, flooding the area with light. He didn't see Amata, but he did see Julie Farkas talking to someone. Mark went over and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around. "Mark, I-" "Julie," Mark said, "I'm looking for my wife. She's missing." "Well, you're in luck, because she is here. Follow me." Julie led the group past the first two rows of tents, and came to a tent being guarded by two men. When they saw Mark, they made a move to block the entrance, but Julie motioned for them to move aside. Mark went in the tent, and saw Amata lying on a cot, with a cloth covering her eyes.

Relief washed over his face as he walked over to her and dropped to his knees. He put her pip-boy on the ground. Cass and Veronica came in with him, while Arcade stayed outside and talked with Julie. He took her left hand in his left hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Mark? Is that you?" "Yeah, it's me, baby." She took the cloth off of her eyes, and the first thing that she saw was Mark smiling at her, with tears in his eyes. They both looked at each other, both clearly relieved to see each other, but neither knew what to say, when Amata broke the silence. "I, uh, I don't think I'll be able to make that dinner that I promised you." They all chuckled. "Are you hurt? I swear, whoever did this is gonna get my boot up their-" "Mark, calm down. Yes, I was hurt. Someone blindsided me, and knocked me out." "How'd you get here, then?" Mark asked. A voice spoke from behind them. "I had my boys get her here."

Mark grabbed his pistol out of its holster and aimed it in the direction of the voice. The man didn't flinch. "Mark, put your gun away," Amata said, "He's a friend." Mark reluctantly lowered his pistol and holstered it, and then stood up. "Mark, Cass, Veronica, this is the King, the leader of the Kings. He's the reason I'm here and not lying in the street." The King came in and extended his hand to shake Mark's. Mark stared at him for a moment, before extending his own hand and shaking the King's. "You must be the Courier that I've been hearing so much about. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." "Do you know what happened, King, as to why she was attacked in the first place?" Mark asked. "Well, she came to visit my place a little earlier today. She and one of my boys, Pacer, got into an argument. She manhandled him and another one of my guys pretty well." Mark smirked. 'That's my girl,' he thought.

"She only attacked them in self-defense," the King continued, "so I don't blame her for it. When she was heading back to the Strip, Pacer attacked her and knocked her out. I got her here, and I have Pacer tied up." "I wanna talk to this Pacer guy," Mark said. "I assumed that you would. Come on, I'll take you to him," the King said. Mark turned to Cass and Veronica. "Would you guys mind staying here, keep an eye on her?" "No problem," said Cass, "kick 'em in tha nuts for me." "Double that for me," Veronica said. Mark looked at Amata. "Baby, I'll be right back, okay?" "Okay. I love you." "I love you too," Mark said as he gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

The King escorted Mark back to the Kings School of Impersonation. Once inside, they made their way up a couple of sets of stairs, to a door with a man standing in front of it. The King nodded to the man, and he stepped aside. The King turned to Mark. "He's in there," the King said, motioning to the door. "Since he attacked your wife, I'm gonna let you decide what to do with him." Mark simply nodded. The King opened the door, and let Mark go in first. Once they were both inside, the King closed the door. It looked like a bedroom, with a couple of mattresses on the floor. There was also a guy in a blue jacket sitting in a chair with his hands bound behind his back, with a couple of Kings flanking him.

"Pacer," the King said, the annoyance clear in his voice, "pay attention." Pacer looked at the King, and then at Mark, and back to the King. "This is the husband of the woman you attacked, but you may know him better as the Courier." Pacer's face suddenly showed a bit of fear. "As a gesture of goodwill, I've decided to put your fate in his hands, so I think it would be in your best interest to answer any questions he has. Got it?" Pacer nodded. The King turned to Mark. "He's all yours." Mark grabbed a chair from the corner of the room, and set it down backwards in front of Pacer, and then he sat down.

"Okay, Pacer," Mark said, "you wanna tell me why you attacked my wife?" Pacer was silent for a couple of moments, and then spoke. "That bitch insulted and attacked me." "First of all," Mark said, "you don't insult my wife. Secondly, my wife doesn't attack people unless it's self-defense. Thirdly, you think an appropriate response to what she did is to blindside assault a pregnant woman?" Pacer's face fell. "I-I didn't know-" "No you wouldn't. Truth be told, it isn't that obvious yet, but rest assured, she is. The thing is, Pacer, I've met people like you before. You have a short temper, and you perceive any little insult as a threat to your manhood. You think you're strong, but you're weak. Now you attacked the woman I love. I can't just let that slide. The King said I could decide your fate. I would be perfectly justified to shoot you and end your pathetic life."

Pacer gulped. "The thing is," Mark continued, "I live by a code. I don't attack defenseless people like you do. So here's my decision. You're gonna leave Freeside forever. Not tomorrow, not in an hour, you're gonna leave now. If even catch the slightest whiff that you're slinking around somewhere, believe me when I say that I will find you, and I will kill you. Is that clear?" Pacer looked to the King a pleading look clearly evident on his face. "King-" "Don't start with me, Pacer," the King said, clearly irritated with his friend, "I think you got off easy. Pacer, I'm trying to create order here. You of all people should know that. Doing this, attacking someone, a pregnant woman, no less, is only creating more chaos, undoing everything that I'm trying to do. You two," the King said, pointing to the two men behind Pacer, "escort Pacer to the east gate, and see to it that he leaves." The two Kings forced Pacer to stand up, and walked out of the room. Mark got up, and looked at the King. "I wish we could have met under better circumstances," the King said. "I had some business that I wanted to discuss with you, but it can wait. You need to take care of your woman. Both you and her are welcome to come back here anytime." "Thank you King," Mark said as they shook hands.

Mark made his way back to the Fort and found Arcade chatting with Julie. Julie walked away and Arcade saw Mark. "Ah, Mark, just who I was looking for." "Hey, Arcade. So, what's going on with Amata?" "Well, I've got good news and bad news. The bad news is that Amata does have a mild concussion, so she's gonna need to rest for a few days." "And the good news?" "Julie doesn't think that the baby was affected in any way." "Do you trust her?" Mark asked. "I've known her a long time," Arcade said. "She knows what she's doing. If you're worried, I can run some tests when we get back to the 38. Julie was actually kind of hesitant to let Amata leave, but since I'll be with you, and with the superior medical equipment we have, I convinced her that it would be better for everyone." Mark slapped Arcade on the back. "Thanks, Arcade." He waved it off.

"Think nothing of it. By the way, Cass and Veronica told me you went interrogate Amata's attacker. How'd that go?" "Honestly, Arcade," Mark said, "I wanted to kill the prick. You have no idea how much I wanted to kill him. In the end, he was kicked out of Freeside." "That seems awfully generous of you, considering what he did." "Yeah, well, killing him serves no purpose. Plus, I don't kill defenseless people." "You are truly a man of honor," Arcade said. "Not too many people like you left in the world." "Hey, don't sell yourself short. From what I can tell, you have plenty of honor." Arcade chuckled. "Careful now. Don't wanna over-inflate my ego." They both laughed. "All right," Mark said, "Let's go get the others and we can get going."

They walked back to the tent. Cass and Veronica had found a couple of chairs and were sitting down, while ED-E hovered outside the tent. Mark got back down on his knees near the cot. "How you feeling, baby?" She groaned. "I think I know how you felt when you got shot in the head." Mark chuckled and looked down. He realized that he left her pip-boy on the ground. He picked it up and said, "Give me your arm." She lifted her left arm up a bit, and Mark slipped the pip-boy and glove back onto her arm. "Hey, don't leave us in tha dark," Cass said from behind him, "what happened with that guy?" Mark turned around and looked at the rest of them. "The King let me decide what to do with him, so I decided to banish him from Freeside." "Oh come on," Cass said, "did ya at least rough 'em up a bit?" "Cass," said Amata, "he made his choice, and I support him." "Thanks, babe. Now, uh, let's get out of here."

Amata sat up, and when she tried to stand up, she started to wobble. Mark caught her. "You're not walking. I'm carrying you back." "Mark, I can-" "Amata, you can barely stand up. How are you gonna walk back to the Strip? I'm carrying you, end of discussion." Mark scooped her up bridal style and carried her out of the tent.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time.**


	31. Chapter 31: Crazy in Love With You

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is doing well, and that you are all enjoying the story up to this point. Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed and/or reviewed in the past few days. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**

They were a little more than halfway back to the Strip. Cass and Arcade were leading the way, with Veronica watching the rear, and ED-E and Boone keeping an eye out from above. Mark and Amata were in the middle, necessitated by the fact that neither Mark, who was carrying Amata, nor Amata, who was in no shape to fight, could defend themselves at the moment. Amata kept her eyes closed and faced into Mark's chest to avoid looking at the bright lights. "Hey, Mark?" Amata asked in a tired voice. "Yeah, baby?" Mark responded, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "Are you mad at me?" she asked. 'Of course I'm mad,' Mark thought. He wanted to say it out loud, but he realized that this wasn't the best time to start yelling. "We can talk about that later, babe. Right now I'm just glad that you're safe."

When they got back to the 38, their first stop was the medical facility that was apparently on the same floor as the laboratory that Arcade was working in. Like practically everything else in the Lucky 38, the facility looked pristine. There was a reception area with a waiting room, multiple examination rooms, and a wide assortment of medical equipment. Arcade had them wait while he went to grab a gurney. Once he rolled the gurney out, Mark gently placed Amata onto it. "Mark," Arcade said, "did you want to come in with us?" "What about the rest of us?" asked Veronica. "I don't want too many people in with us at the moment, it could overwhelm her" "Mark," Amata said, "stay out here and relax. I'll be fine with Arcade." "I'll relax when I know what's going on. I'm coming in." Amata grabbed his hand. "Mark, _stay._ " Mark looked at her. She gave him a 'you're-not-gonna-win-this-argument' look. This wasn't the first time she had given him that look. Mark couldn't help but smile. "Okay, you win. I'll stay."

Mark, Cass, and Veronica sat down in the waiting room, while ED-E floated around the facility. None of them said anything for a few minutes. Cass took out her flask and took a swig, while Veronica flipped through some two-hundred year old magazines she found in a magazine rack. Once she got bored with that, she broke the silence. "So…it's been quite an interesting day, hasn't it?" "Ya can say that again," Cass said. They both looked at Mark, waiting for some response from him, but he was staring off into space and twiddling his thumbs. Cass nudged him. "Sorry, did you guys say something?" "We were just saying what a crazy day that it's been," Veronica said. "Yeah," Mark said half-heartedly, like he wasn't all there. "Mark, are ya okay? If this is about Amata, I'm sure she's gonna be fine." "No, I know. It's just…I owe both of you an apology." "Mark," Cass said, "if this is about what happened at tha Cove, it's okay. I know ya were just worried."

"No," Mark said, "it's not okay. You guys are my friends. I trust all of you. I never meant to imply that you guys didn't care about Amata." There was silence for a few moments. "Did you guys know that I never knew my mother?" Mark asked. Veronica looked at Cass, who just shrugged her shoulders. "No, we, um, didn't know that," said Veronica, "what happened?" "The way my dad told it, she went into cardiac arrest a few minutes after I was born. They tried to save her, but they couldn't." "Sorry ta hear that, Mark," Cass said. "Thanks. I mean, I never really mourned because I never really knew her. My dad told me about her, but it really isn't the same as getting to meet someone. Anyway, when my dad was killed, Amata was the only person left in the world that I truly loved. That's why I think I got upset earlier today. If something had happened to her, then everyone that I loved would be gone." Tears formed in his eyes, and he tried to wipe them away. "Sorry, I didn't mean to dump all of that on you guys."

"Look, Mark," Cass said, "all of us, you, me, Veronica, Arcade, Boone, Amata, we're a team. We look out fer each other. We've got each other's backs. Don't think that ya have ta protect her by yerself. We know what she means to ya. She means a lot to all of us. I mean, fuck, if she hadn't asked me ta come with y'all, I'd probably still be at that damn outpost." Mark smiled and looked at both of them. "Thanks, Cass. That means a lot. But I think you forgot to mention someone." Cass looked confused. "Who'd I forget?" Mark pointed in front of him, to where ED-E was floating. If he had eyes, they would have likely been staring at Cass. "Yeah, Cass," Veronica said, snickering, "how could you forget our flying robot friend?" Cass was getting freaked out by ED-E staring at her. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. Yer a part of this team, too, ED-E." ED-E beeped approvingly and floated away. Cass whispered to Mark, "Damn, that thing creeps me out sometimes."

(45 minutes later)

Arcade eventually wheeled Amata back out into the waiting room. He did confirm that she did have a concussion, and that the baby was fine. They made their way back up to the Presidential Suite, with Amata in Mark's arms again. Once they got to their room, Mark laid Amata down on the bed and helped her take her armor off. Everyone else was looking in the doorway. Mark walked back over to the group. Mark looked at Boone. "Hey, Boone, thanks for helping get us there and back safe." "No problem," he said. "How's she doing?" "She'll be fine," Mark said. He then looked at Arcade. "Ok, Arcade, how do we proceed?" Mark asked.

"Well," he said, "for the next 24-36 hours, someone needs to be with her at all times. She cannot be alone in case something happens. You also need to keep asking her questions that she would know the answer to. This serves two purposes: one is to keep her alert, and the other is to determine just how concussed she is. She also needs to avoid any stressful or overtaxing situations. She can sleep, but she needs to be woken every fifteen minutes for the first two hours, then every half hour for the next two hours, and then hourly. She has an ice pack, so make sure she keeps that applied to her head. I also gave her some med-x for the pain, so she should be good for now, and I think that's everything. I'll be down the hall. Call me if anything happens." "That goes for the rest of us, too," Veronica said. Mark smiled. "Thanks guys. Goodnight." Everyone said goodnight, and Mark closed the door quietly.

Mark turned around and looked at Amata. She was stripped down to a tank top and camo shorts. She was holding the ice pack against the back of her head. It was the first time that Mark had ever seen her look so…helpless, and it killed him inside. She was lying on her side, facing towards Mark. "Well, go ahead," she said. "With what?" Mark asked as he began to take off his armor. "I know you're probably pissed, so go ahead and yell. Get it over with." Mark spoke in a calm voice. "Yes, I am angry. However, you heard what Arcade said. You need to avoid stressful situations. So we will have this argument, but only when Arcade says that you're okay. I don't want anything else to happen to that pretty little head of yours." He stripped down to his underwear, and got on the bed, lying on his side, facing her.

She snickered. "This isn't the first time that I knew something was wrong with my head." Mark looked at her questioningly. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "No-nothing," she said "it doesn't matter anymore, anyway." "Amata, what is it? You know you can tell me anything." She sighed. "Well, two or three days after you left the vault the second time-" "Well, technically you exiled me, but go on," Mark said. She continued. "Ok, two or three nights after I _exiled_ you, there was one night that I couldn't sleep, so I started to wander around the vault, and I started to remember some things that happened between us. Like, I found myself in the cafeteria and I remembered when you got your pip-boy on your tenth birthday." "Yeah, I remember that." "No, Mark, this was different. It was like I was watching a holotape of it. I saw myself come up to you after my dad gave you your pip-boy. It was like I was having some kind of out-of-body experience or something."

Mark smiled. "Do you remember what I said when you asked me to guess what you got me for my birthday?" She smiled and rolled her eyes. "You said a date with Christine Kendall. When you said that, I almost smacked you with that comic book." "Why, Mrs. Franklin, am I detecting a hint of _jealousy_ in your voice? Were you upset that I didn't say that I wanted a date with you?" "Ha. As if." "Oh please," Mark said, "I can hear the jealousy dripping off of your voice." "Shut up. Anyway, I kept walking and I found myself staring in the doorway of your old room, and I saw myself waking you up when I found out your dad left." She chuckled. "You know, I actually spent a couple of nights in your bed, just to try to be close to you in some fashion. No one had been in there since you left." "So, I finally got a girl in my bed, and I wasn't even there to enjoy it," Mark said theatrically. "You're an idiot. You know that, right?" "Yes, my dear Amata, but I am your idiot. Please continue your thrilling tale of how badly you missed me so." "Well, then I found myself down near the vault door, and I saw us the first time when you escaped. Then all of a sudden, it changed into when you left the second time. It was weird. We were standing in the same exact spots as when you left the first time." She paused for a couple of moments. "Mark, am I crazy?"

Mark reached over and moved a couple of strands of hair out of her face. "Well, maybe a little. I mean, out of all the guys in the vault you could have been with, you picked me, so that might qualify you as crazy." She shoved him playfully with her free hand. "Amata, seriously, you're not crazy. You just missed me, and honestly, who could blame you?" She rolled her eyes again. "You know, I don't remember if I told you this or not, but when I was out in the wastes, there were a few times when I thought I was losing my mind. With all of the depraved shit that I saw, I wondered if at some point I was just going to snap. Especially right after my dad died. I'm not gonna lie, I was in a pretty dark place. Every time I felt my mind begin to forget why I was fighting, I would look at my pistol, and look at your name, and it would all come flooding back. Thinking about you pulled me back from the edge of insanity I don't know how often. You saved me so many times, and you didn't even know it. No matter what I was doing, no matter how tough it was, no matter how many times I nearly died, I just kept telling myself that it was all a labor of love."

She looked at his muscled torso, which had multiple bruises and a couple of small scars. She traced a finger over his muscles. "Well, I'm glad you're not dead," she said. "Yeah, well, that makes two of us," Mark said in response. "I mean," Amata continued, "if I heard that you died while I was still in the vault, I'm pretty sure that I would've had a mental breakdown, and then I would've gone ballistic on my father, since it was his fault you had to leave in the first place." Mark chuckled. "I would've loved to see that." Mark checked the time, and realized it was close to 11 pm. "Alright," he said, "I think it's time for you to rest now." Mark got up, flipped off the light switch next to the door, and turned off the lamp on Amata's side of the bed, leaving only the lamp on his side of the bed on. Mark got back on the bed and told Amata to turn over. She did, and Mark held the ice pack to the back of her head. "Mark, aren't you gonna sleep?" "No," Mark said, "someone's gotta make sure you wake up. You took care of me after I got shot, so now it's my turn to take care of you." "Goodnight, Mark." "Goodnight, Amata."

(The next morning)

It was close to 8 AM when Mark heard a couple of knocks on the door. After checking that Amata was still breathing, he grabbed a shirt off the floor, put it on, and opened the door. It was Arcade, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. "Mornin' Arcade," Mark said as he rubbed his eyes. "Good morning. How did she do last night?" Arcade asked. Mark moved aside and allowed Arcade in, and he shut the door. "Well, she's still breathing, so that's a plus." "Isn't that the truth for all of us," Arcade said. "I just wanted to run a couple of simple tests, see how she's doing." Mark went over and shook her awake. "Amata, baby, wake up." She opened her eyes, and winced for a second as her eyes adjusted to the light. "What, what's going on?" she responded groggily. "Baby, Arcade's here. He wants to see how you're doing." "Oh, okay." Mark grabbed a pair of pants and put on his boots. "Arcade, can you stay with her while I go check in with House?" "No problem," he said, as Amata sat on the edge of the bed. Mark left the room and closed the door.

As he passed by the kitchen, he saw Veronica grabbing something out of the fridge. "Morning, Veronica," Mark said as he passed by. "Morning, Mark," she said, not really paying attention. When she realized who said that, she ran out into the hall. "Mark, how's she doing?" Mark turned around. "It seemed that she was doing ok. Arcade's checking in on her right now, and I gotta go check in with House." He pushed a button to open the elevator. "Ok," Veronica said. "Well, I'm making some eggs a la Veronica. You want some?" "Sure, that'll be great. See you in a bit," Mark said, as the elevator closed.

"Mr. Franklin," House said as Mark stepped into the office, "I assume that you're here for your next assignment?" "Yeah, go ahead House," Mark said, "I'm all ears." "Very good. I assume you've noticed the Gomorrah Casino across the street?" "Yeah, it's kinda hard to miss all the fire and half-naked women dancing in the street. Who runs that place, anyway?" "They are called the Omertas, although once upon a time they went by a different name. They dress and act like mobsters from a period in Vegas' history, one that I was very fascinated with." "Ok, House," Mark said, "so what's the problem with them?" "There is no problem."

Mark stood there, confused. "Ok, House, you lost me. If there's no problem, then why are we talking about them?" "The fact that there is no problem _is_ the problem. They are always complaining about something, but for the past few weeks, there has been complete silence." "So," Mark said, "since they're not complaining, you think something's going on, and you want me to figure out what it is, and stop it if necessary, right?" "Exactly," House said. "So, where exactly would I start looking for information?" Mark asked. "Talk to the receptionist at the front desk. She owes me a favor. She should be able to point you where you need to go. That is all." House's face disappeared, and the words 'connection lost' appeared on the screen. As Mark made his way back to the elevator, he started to think. 'So I have to go into a casino filled with mobsters, strippers, and prostitutes. Oh yeah, Amata's gonna _love_ that.'

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time, and once again, reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**


	32. Chapter 32: What We Do For Those We Love

**Author's Note: As of the last chapter, this story now has over 10,000 views. When I began writing this story, I honestly didn't know how good of a response that I would get from it, but this has far exceeded any expectations that I may have had back when I first published it. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcome and appreciated.**

Mark got back on the elevator and went back to the Presidential Suite. Mark found everyone seated around the table, eating what looked like some eggs mixed with some meat and spices. 'This is what Veronica meant when she said she was making eggs 'a la Veronica,'' Mark thought. "Mornin' Captain," Cass said as she shoveled eggs in her mouth. "Sit down, Mark," Veronica said, motioning to a seat between her and Amata. There was already a plate of eggs at his spot. He gave Amata a quick peck on the cheek and sat down. He looked at the plate. "So, what's in these eggs, anyway?" Mark asked as he went to take a bite. "Well," Veronica said, "it's gecko eggs with bits of gecko meat, and some cinnamon. This isn't the first time I've made the eggs with the meat, but I've never had access to any type of spices like House has here." Mark took a bite. It was actually not bad. "Mmm, it is very good, Veronica," Mark said.

"Speaking of House," Arcade said, "what kind of suicide mission has he given today?" "Well," Mark said, "compared to the first assignment, this one actually seems relatively easy. He wants me to go across the street to Gomorrah. He thinks that the Omertas are up to something." As he anticipated, Amata was not exactly thrilled with that idea. "Uh, Mark," she said, "I'm not exactly sure if I'm comfortable with you going into a place filled with a bunch of whores." "Amata," Mark said, "I'm not going in there to look at the strippers. You know I only have eyes for you. If they try anything, I'll let them know that I'm already taken." "Aww, how sweet," Veronica said. "You two were really made for each other." Mark and Amata looked at each other. "Yeah, we really are," Amata said softly as she and Mark kissed. "Ecch, y'all are gonna make me barf," Cass said as she got up and put her dish in the sink. "Hey, uh, didn't y'all promise ta help me find my caravan? I'm not rushin' ya, I was jus' wonderin when we're gonna get ta that."

"Well," Mark said, "technically, Amata promised you that, but since she's in no position to go anywhere, I guess the responsibility falls to me. We can actually do it today, if you're up for it." Cass stared absentmindedly at the bottle of whiskey. "Yeah, uh, today's good. I think I need closure." Then something dawned on Mark, who then turned to Amata. "Amata, why aren't you in bed? You need to be resting." "Arcade said it was okay for me to be out here, right, Arcade?" "Well," Arcade said, looking like he didn't want to be involved in this conversation, "I said you could be out here for a few minutes. You're a little better, but I'd still rather not have you overwhelmed just yet. Better safe than sorry, I'm afraid."

"Arcade," Amata said, "I feel-" "Amata," Mark said a bit more forcefully than he had intended, "you heard what he said. Go back to bed, or I will restrain you to it." "Really? Using my own words against me?" "Well, they were some good words," Mark said. Amata looked annoyed, but got up anyway. Mark got up and went to follow her. "Mark," Veronica said, getting up, "why don't you let me keep an eye on her for now?" Mark and Amata stopped in their tracks. "Are-are you sure, Veronica?" Mark asked. She waved it off. "It's no problem. We're a team, remember? We look out for each other. It sounds like you have things you need to do. I don't mind sitting this one out." Mark didn't put up much of a fight. "Well, okay, Veronica, by all means." Veronica followed Amata out of the room, and they heard the bedroom door open and close.

Mark sat back down at the table and continued to eat the eggs. "So, uh," Cass said, "what was that 'bout usin' her own words against 'er?" "Oh, yeah," Mark said, "after I got shot, and after I woke up from the coma, she wouldn't let me leave the house, so she threatened to restrain me to the bed because I tried to sneak outside." "Sounds knida kinky if ya ask me," Cass said, grinning at Mark. "Yeah, I may have made a joke about that, too. She wasn't exactly in a laughing mood at the time." Arcade got up from the table and put his dish in the sink. "Well," he said, "since it appears that you guys won't be needing me, I'll be down in the lab." He was about to walk out into the hallway, when Mark spoke.

"Hey, uh, Arcade, I forgot to ask. How is the lab? I never actually had a chance to check it out." "It is…something else. I wasn't even aware that some of those machines still existed, let alone functioned. I've only read about them in books. I've made more progress with my research in the past few days than I had in the past couple of years. I still don't know how to thank you." Mark stood up and put a hand on Arcade's shoulder. "Arcade, you're helping make sure that my wife and my unborn child are healthy. That is more than thanks enough. You're a good man. I know that you'll do good work." Arcade smiled. "Thank you for the vote of confidence," Arcade said, "you don't know how much that means to me." "Don't mention it," Mark said as he patted Arcade on the shoulder and sat back down. Arcade headed down the hallway towards the elevator, humming a happy tune.

(5 minutes earlier)

Amata and Veronica walked into Mark and Amata's room and Veronica closed the door. Amata laid down on the bed and let out an exasperated sigh. "Something wrong?" Veronica asked as she walked over to the bookshelf behind the desk, looking for something to read. "This is stupid," Amata said, "I feel fine." "Amata, last night, you could barely stand up. I know you're walking a little now, but a concussion isn't something you recover from overnight. There could still be problems that haven't surfaced yet." "It's just…I feel like Mark is smothering me. He wouldn't let me come with you guys, he told me not to go into Freeside, and now he's ordering me to go to bed like I'm a kid." Veronica stopped looking through the books and turned to face Amata. "Well," Veronica said, "can you honestly blame him for being careful?" "What?"

"Amata, you are pregnant. With his child." "Thank you, Veronica, but I am fully aware of my present condition," Amata said sarcastically. "Are you now? Because I think that someone who's pregnant would know better than to go into an area that you are completely unfamiliar with. Now, Mark's told me that you're smart, but that doesn't seem like something a smart person would do. Then again, maybe all of those hormones are affecting your judgement." She paused. "Look, Amata, you've known him your entire life, and you know things about him that I probably will never know. Now, granted, I've known him for less than a week, but I think I've got a decent read on him. He goes into a heavily guarded casino, kills the guy who runs it, and no one's any the wiser on whom actually did. Doing that, doesn't even seem to faze him. Now, once Benny's dead, the first thing he does isn't to search for the chip, but to make sure that you're okay."

"He also meticulously planned and successfully executed an infiltration of a massive slaver base, with only maybe a bruise to show for it. That doesn't bother him in the slightest. Hell, it sounded like he did that kind of thing for a living. But when he couldn't contact you, the first thing that he thinks is that you're likely severely hurt or dead. There was fear in his eyes over the thought of losing you. Hell, he and Cass almost came to blows. Everything that he's doing is to keep you safe."

Before Amata could respond, the door to the room opened, and Mark came in. Both Amata and Veronica stared at him. Mark froze. "Oh, sorry," he said, "was I interrupting something?" "No," Amata said, "just some girl talk." "Ah, well, don't let me interrupt. I just need to get changed." As Mark put on his armor and armed himself, Veronica noticed something under the desk. It was a small silver briefcase with a three number dial combination. "Hey, guys," Veronica said, examining the case, "what's this?" "What's what?" Mark asked as he turned around to face her. When both he and Amata saw what she was referencing, their eyes went wide at the same time. "No, no, no, please don't touch that," Mark said in a slightly panicked voice, as he walked over to her quickly and took it out of her hands. "What is it?" Veronica asked.

"Something only to be used in severe emergencies," Mark said as he put the case under the bed. "Is it some kind of weapon?" "Yes," Mark said, "and like I said, it's only to be used for emergencies." There was silence as Mark finished getting changed. "How do I look, babe?" He asked Amata. He had his combat armor on, his assault rifle in a harness attached to his back, his silenced 10 mm pistol on his right hip, Benny's pistol on his left hip, a trench knife (courtesy of the Anchorage simulation) in a sheath strapped to his right leg, and three frag grenades on the front of his belt. "Mark, you look like you're ready to storm a military base by yourself," Amata said. "That's good," Mark said, "because that's the look that I was going for." Veronica had come over to look at him as well. "Mark, what's that other pistol you have, the one that looks ornate?" Mark pulled Benny's pistol out and showed it to her.

"This was Benny's personal weapon. I took it for myself, kinda as a war prize. I'm guessing he liked it a lot, because he gave it a name." "How do you know that?" Veronica asked. He showed her the bottom of the grip. "Maria," Veronica said, reading the engraving. "Yep," Mark said, "so I've decided to name my pistol as well." He pulled out the 10 mm pistol. "So, say hello to Amata. The gun, not the person." Veronica chuckled and turned to Amata. "So you must feel pretty honored, to have a gun named after you." "Yeah," Amata said, rolling her eyes at Mark, "he sure knows how to make a girl feel special." "Hey," Mark said, "you should feel special. Most people don't get anything named after them until after they're dead."

Mark looked down and saw the envelope Amata had been give yesterday on the ground near her armor. "Amata, what's this?" Mark asked as he picked it up. "Oh, um, an NCR soldier gave it to me yesterday as I was leaving. Said it was for you." Mark opened it and read it. Veronica, who had sat down at the desk and propped her feet up on it, asked, "what does it say?" "Apparently," Mark said as he tossed it in his bag, "NCR Ambassador Dennis Crocker wants to meet with me." He picked up his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. He gave Amata a kiss. "Alright, babe, I'll be back at some point later today. Call me if you need me, ok?" "Okay. I love you." "Love you too, babe." He went towards the door, and reached for the door handle, when he realized he had forgotten to tell her something.

"Oh, yeah, Amata, by the way, I'm gonna be picking up some new armor while I'm out, and you're gonna get this armor," Mark said patting the chest plate of his combat armor. "Your leather armor is getting too restrictive for my liking." She turned over and looked at him. "Mark, are you calling me fat?" she asked playfully. Mark was silent for a moment, and then shook his head. "Nope. Not answering that. That's a double edged sword, and no matter how I answer, somehow you're gonna be mad at me." He opened the door and walked out.

Mark went into the kitchen and found Boone staring out the door to the balcony. "Hey, Boone?" "Yeah?" Boone responded, not looking away. Mark pulled out the note. "This note was delivered here yesterday, and it says an Ambassador Crocker wants to meet with me. Do you know anything about him?" Boone turned around. "He's a nice enough guy, I suppose. I met him once, but I didn't really care for him." "Why not?" "He's a politician. I hate politicians." Mark smiled. "Yeah, me too," Mark said. "You wanna come with me and Cass, help find her caravan?" He stared at Mark for a few moments. "Ok," he finally said, "give me a minute." About five minutes later, Mark, Cass and Boone stepped in the elevator and made their way towards the ground floor.

(15 minutes later)

Amata and Veronica had sat in near-silence since Mark had left. The only noises were from Amata occasionally turning over, or Veronica turning the pages of the book she was reading, titled "The Iliad of Homer." "So," Veronica finally said without looking up, "did you wanna talk about anything?" "Like what?" Amata asked. "Oh, I don't know, maybe we could talk about you and Mark. Amata groaned. "Veronica, I get it. I screwed up. I really don't wanna talk about that anymore." "No, no, not that. I was just curious as to when you knew that you were in love with him, if you don't mind me asking." Amata's voice softened a bit. "Um, well, okay. I mean, we were best friends when we were growing up. We did nearly everything together. When I turned thirteen, however, my dad had a guard with me at all times, so it was near-impossible to do anything romantic."

"Why?" Veronica asked, "Did he not trust you?" "No, I think he trusted me. He just wasn't Mark's biggest fan." "What, did Mark pull some prank on him?" "No, Mark isn't exactly the type to pull pranks. I'm pretty sure that it was because my father and Mark's father never really saw eye-to-eye, and disagreed with my father on a lot of things. I think my father thought that since Mark's father disagreed with him, Mark would be inclined to as well, and since Mark and I were best friends, that some of that rebelliousness would rub off on me." Veronica was silent for a couple of moments. "Well, you two seem all lovey-dovey now, so what happened? What changed?" All of a sudden, Amata frowned and got a far-away look in her eyes, remembering everything that happened. In a barely audible voice, Amata said one word: "Everything." Veronica put down the book. "Amata, what does that mean, 'everything?'" "You know what," Amata said hurriedly, "I'm tired. I don't feel like talking anymore." She turned over and faced away from Veronica, silence once again taking over the room.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time, and reviews are always welcome.**


	33. Chapter 33: Enigmatic

**Author's Note: Hello everyone. I hope that everyone is doing well, and that you are enjoying the story thus far. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcomed.**

(15 minutes later)

"Remind me again why we're goin' ta see a boring politician?" Cass asked as she, Mark, and Boone stood outside the compound that served as the embassy for the NCR on the Strip. Cass was to Mark's right, and Boone was on his left. "I have a feeling," Mark said, "that if I ignore this, they're just gonna keep bothering me until I answer them, so I'd just like to get this over with. Besides, I told you I wanted to stop here first, and that you could wait at the 38 for when we came back that way." Cass took a swig out of her flask. "I'm too antsy. I wasn't jus' gonna be sittin' around waitin' fer ya."

The compound that was the NCR embassy was a fenced-in area, with two one-story L-shaped buildings with large, dirty windows. There was an NCR flag flying on a flagpole just inside the only opening in the fence. There was also a plaque just outside the fence, and the ground itself was composed entirely of brick. There were some troopers milling around, giving the three of them cursory glances as they entered. Mark looked at the two buildings, unsure of which building to enter. "Boone, do you know which building the ambassador is supposed to be in?" Boone motioned to the building on their left with his head. "That's the administration building. The other one is the prison," Boone said as they walked towards the building.

They entered what served as the reception area. There was an olive-green rug that had obviously seen better days, white painted walls, and the ceiling had a few chunks of plaster missing. There was a row of metal chairs on either side of the room, and near the back of the room was a wooden C-shaped desk, with a woman sitting at it, typing on a computer. There was a door on either side of the desk in the back two corners, as well as troopers standing on guard near them. They walked up to the desk. The woman, who looked to be in her early forties, had jet black hair pulled into a ponytail, and was wearing a light blue button down shirt and khaki pants. She paid them no attention as they walked up to the desk.

"Um, excuse me?" Mark said. "Can I help you?" the woman asked, continuing to type and ignoring them. "My name is Mark Franklin. I'm here to see the ambassador." "Do you have an appointment?" the woman asked. "Well, no, but-" "Anyone who wishes to meet with the Ambassador needs to make an appointment," the woman said. She continued to type. Cass banged her fist on the desk angrily. That got the woman's attention. "Dammit, woman, would ya stop typin' fer one goddamn minute an' listen ta what tha man is sayin'?" Cass said, the annoyance clearly present in her voice. Mark and Boone both looked at her, as did both guards in the room. The woman looked up from her computer and looked up at Mark. "Fine," the woman said, trying to remain professional, "how may I help you?" Mark spoke, and pulled out the letter as he did. "As I was saying, this notice was delivered to the Lucky 38, asking me to meet with the Ambassador.

The woman looked at the note, and when she saw the word "Courier," her eyes widened. "Oh, my apologies," she said hurriedly as she got up from her desk, "please give me one moment." She went into the doorway in the back left corner of the room. Mark looked at Cass. "Cass, was that really necessary?" "Hey, someone needed ta get her attention. What would ya have done?" "Something that might not have gotten every gun in the place pointed at us." The receptionist came back out through the doorway. "The Ambassador will see you now."

Cass decided to stay in the reception area, and after she promised she wouldn't shoot the receptionist, Mark and Boone followed the receptionist down a hallway. They came to a room at the end of the hall. They entered the room and looked around. There was a red carpet blanketing the floor, two white couches in the middle of the room, a coffee table between them. There was also a bookshelf, and a couple of filing cabinets. At the back of the room was a desk with a terminal on it, a chair in back of it, and two more chairs in front of it. Standing near the desk were two men. Standing behind the desk was a balding black man in his late fifties, wearing a dirty three-piece black suit. In front of the desk was a man who looked close to forty, wearing a beige military uniform, brown boots, a green tie, and an officer's cap. The cap had the two-headed bear on the front of the cap, with four five pointed stars on either side of the bear, and his collar bore the same stars.

When Boone saw the man in the military uniform, he stood at attention and rendered a military salute. The man returned the salute. He brushed past Mark and approached Boone. "What's your name, soldier?" The man asked Boone in a gruff voice. "Craig Boone, sir," Boone replied. They shook hands. "You must be the Courier that I've heard about." He then looked over his shoulder at Mark. "Who's this, your bodyguard?" he asked Boone. Mark took an instant dislike to this man. "Actually, sir, he's the Courier," Boone said, pointing to Mark. The man's face fell a bit, possibly due to the fact that the Courier wasn't an NCR soldier. The black man came out from behind the desk. "Good morning, gentlemen," he said as he shook Mark's and Boone's hands, "I am Ambassador Dennis Crocker of the NCR, and this is Four-Star NCR General Lee Oliver."

He then turned and focused solely on Mark. "May I ask your name?" "Mark Franklin, Mr. Ambassador," Mark said, in as polite a tone as he could muster. "Well, Mr. Franklin, I was only expecting a meeting with you, and not your friend here." Boone stared at him. "Although 1st Recon soldiers are always welcome here," he quickly amended. "Yeah, well," Mark said "with all due respect, Ambassador, you wanted to meet with me, not the other way around. Hell, I wasn't even aware you existed until this morning, so either he stays or I walk right now." Ambassador Crocker looked at General Oliver, who nodded. "Very well," Crocker said, as he walked back around the desk, "please, sit." "I'll stand," Boone said, backing a few feet away as Mark and General Oliver sat down. There was a silence in the room. "Okay," Mark said, "so why am I here, exactly?"

"Well, Mr. Franklin," Crocker said, "you've made quite a name for yourself. Killing the head of the Chairmen, entering the Lucky 38, and there are some rumors going around that you were involved in some activities in Freeside. As you may or not be aware, the NCR is involved in an ongoing conflict with the Legion, and you've got a reputation as a man who can get things done, and we could use a man of your particular skill set to help us with-" "Oh, for the love of god, Crocker," the General interrupted, "enough with the diplomatic bullshit. Listen, son, our soldiers are getting attacked in Freeside, and we need those attacks stopped, one way or another, because we need those soldiers in top shape to gut those Legion bastards." "Well, yes," Crocker said, jumping back in, "we've had reports of NCR soldiers _and_ citizens being attacked by locals, and by some members of this gang that calls themselves the Kings. Now, my local informants tell me that these attacks are instigated by some punk named Pacer, who is second-in-command to the King's leader, a man named the King. Now, we need you to do whatever it takes to get in good with the King, and get him to order Pacer to cease these attacks." Mark was sitting back in the chair, feigning disinterest. "Oh," Mark said, "were you done, or were you gonna keep telling me crap that I already know?" General Oliver got a bit angered. "Are we boring you, son?" "A bit, actually. Now, was there anything else, because I've got other stuff to do today."

"You're damn right there is, son," Oliver said, trying to contain his anger, "we want a face-to-face meeting with House. No more of this securitron bullshit." "No, General, you see, that's not how this works. You don't get to demand things. I am House's second-in-command. You deal with me now. House also gave me access to the treaty the NCR signed with him. You have no goddamn authority on the Strip. I'm not an NCR soldier or citizen, so I don't serve at the pleasure of the Republic, and there's nothing in California that you can threaten to take away from me to force me to comply. Those stars that you wear on your hat, and on your collar, they mean absolutely nothing to me. For your information, Pacer is no longer a problem, and I'm already on good terms with the King. I'm already aware of Freeside's issues, told to me by a trusted local source." Mark stood up, as did Oliver and Crocker. "You better remember damn well who you're talking to, son," Oliver said through gritted teeth, his face red and contorted with rage. Mark smirked at him. "Oh, I'm well aware of whom I'm talking to, General Oliver, or would you prefer General Wait-and-See, who's too afraid to make any move against the Legion? I've also heard that you're only a general because you know the President, and that you actually suck as a leader and as a military tactician."

"Gentlemen," Crocker said, coming out from behind the desk, attempting to defuse the situation, "if we could just take a moment to-" "STAY OUT OF THIS, CROCKER!" Oliver yelled, as he put out his left hand to stop him, while pulling out his sidearm and aiming it at Mark's head with his right. Mark didn't flinch. "I'll be damned if I let some walk-the-wasteland fuck talk to me like that! You better watch your back, son." Boone just stood back, watching this all unfold. "Is that a _threat,_ General? Let me tell you something. The last "military official" who demanded something from me and pointed a gun at my head ended up dead, face-down in a pool of irradiated water." "Are you threatening me, son?" Oliver retorted.

"No," Mark said, pointing a finger at the General, "I'm warning you, and this is the only warning you're gonna get. You think you scare me? I've seen and done shit that would make you piss your pants, so some glory-seeking, Dwight Eisenhower- wannabe general doesn't scare me in the slightest. Heed these words, Oliver: If you come near or threaten me or any of my friends, you will live to regret it." There was a tense silence in the room, broken only by Oliver's angered breathing. "Good day, gentlemen," Mark said as he walked out of the room. Boone stood there for a second, and then followed. On the way back to the reception area, Boone chuckled a bit and said, "And you were worried about _Cass_ getting every gun in the place pointed at us?"

(10 minutes later)

They were near the gate to Freeside, and Cass nearly choked on the whiskey she was drinking when Mark told her what he said. "Ya called him what, again?" she asked. "A glory-seeking, Dwight Eisenhower-wannabe general were my exact words," Mark replied. "And then, ya basically threatened ta kill him if he came near ya or any of us?" "No," Mark said, correcting her, "I said he would live to regret it. The word 'kill' never came out of my mouth." There was silence for a few moments, and then Cass started laughing and slapped Mark on the back. "Dude, you've got tha biggest, brassiest balls I've ever seen. I wish I coulda seen tha look on Oliver's face." They passed through the gates into Freeside. "Well," said Mark, "let's just say I've had my fill of egotistical assholes who try to push people around just because they have a little bit of power. Look, I know you guys are both NCR citizens, and Oliver's probably your guy or whatever, so if you're upset with me, then I apologize.

Cass gave him an incredulous look. "Upset with ya? I outta buy ya a drink." Mark looked at her. "Mark, I don't give a fuck about Oliver. Everyone an' their grandma knows that he's an idiot. Yer probably just the firs' person ever ta tell it ta his face. Right, Boone?" Boone had been silent since they left the embassy. "Don't worry, Mark," Boone said, "I've got your back. We've only been here for four days and you've already done more against the Legion than the NCR has in the past few years." "Well," Mark said, a bit relieved, "I'm glad you guys are still on my side." "Hey, uh," Cass said, "that Eisen-wahtever his name was ya mentioned, who is he?" "Dwight Eisenhower. He commanded the Allied forces during World War II and later became a United States President. He was one of the most brilliant military tacticians in history."

As they made their way through Freeside, Cass showed Mark on his pip-boy where the NCR said her caravan was attacked. They were heading towards the east gate when they passed by the Old Mormon Fort. "Guys," Mark said, "I just need to make **one** more stop before we find her caravan. I'm sorry." Boone nodded, while Cass groaned. "Alright, fine, but make it quick. I wanna get this over with." Mark led them back into the Old Mormon Fort. Mark couldn't find Julie, but after asking around, he found out that she was in her office that was in a tower that was on their right as they entered the Fort. They went into the tower and walked up a couple of flights of stairs. Julie's office consisted of a desk, a couple of chairs, and a filing cabinet. She didn't hear them come up, so Mark knocked on the doorframe.

Julie looked up and was a bit surprised to see Mark. "Mark," she said, "I didn't expect to see you back here so soon. I thought you would be taking care of your wife." "Oh, don't worry. Arcade and my other friend, Veronica, are watching her." "How is she doing, by the way?" "She's doing a bit better, thanks for asking." "Okay, so do you need medical attention, or-" "No," Mark said, "we're fine. I actually have something that I want to give you." Mark put his bag down on the desk and opened it. He pulled out a sack and placed it on the desk. Julie's eyes widened. "Mark, what-" "Julie, there are seven hundred caps in there, all for the Followers." Julie looked back and forth between the bag and Mark a couple of times, trying to ascertain if this was really happening or not. "Mark," she stammered, "I-I-I don't know what to say. I-I can't accept this." "Julie, you can and you will. Don't worry about me. I've got plenty of caps, and you need these far more than I do. You said that you needed a regular supply of medicine. I'm still working on that, but I'm hoping you can stretch this as far as possible until I figure something out."

"No-no one has ever been this generous to us before. What are you getting out of this?" "Julie," Mark said, "the only thing that I want out of this is your friendship. Arcade speaks very highly of you. You guys, the Followers, you try to help people the best you can with what you have, and barely ask for anything in return. If I've learned anything in my travels, it's that there are still people out there who are willing to do what's right, just because it's the right thing to do." Mark paused. "Well, that, and to never go anywhere without a knife, but I digress." Julie was still in shock.

"I still don't understand something," Julie said. "I mean, Arcade told me that you're the Courier. You've only been here what, like four, five days? From what I know, you've had no previous ties to this area. You don't owe anyone anything, and yet, you help get Bill and Jacob back here so they can get clean, and now you're making this more than generous donation. I've also heard that Freeside's main source of drugs is dead, and a troublemaking King is gone, and that's all happened since you've been here. For the first time in a while things are starting to look up a bit. You're like some kind of…" Julie paused, searching for the right words, "…earthly angel or something."

Mark chuckled. "Would you believe that that's not the first time that someone's called me that?" "Honestly," Julie said, "I can believe it." "Look, Julie" Mark said, looking at Cass and Boone, "we've got to get going." She got up from behind her desk. "Mark," she said, shaking Mark's hand, "you have my eternal gratitude. And my friendship. I suppose having the Courier on our side can only help further our cause." "Have nice day, Julie," Mark said as he picked up his bag and followed Cass and Boone down the stairs. Julie turned back and looked at the bag on her desk. "Of all the clinics in all the wasteland, he walked into this one," she said to herself, smiling and shaking her head.

As they headed toward Cass' caravan, which was about three miles outside Vegas, Mark realized something: he was tired as hell. He hadn't really slept since yesterday morning, and that was only for a few hours. He figured the effects of walking for twelve hours to and back from Cottonwood Cove, going through Freeside multiple times, and staying awake to make sure Amata kept breathing really started to take a toll on him. He was hoping they could get to the caravan, Cass could pay her respects, he could buy that armor, and then go back to the 38 and take a long nap.

As they came closer to where the caravan was supposed to be, Mark noticed that Cass look a bit distraught. "Cass," Mark said, "are you okay?" "I, uh, I thought I was ready fer this, but I'm afraid of what I'm gonna find." "Cass," Mark said, trying to reassure her, "whatever happens, whatever we find, we've got your back." She gave a half-hearted smile. "Ya know, ya remind me a lot of ma dad." "I hope that's a good thing," Mark said jokingly. "Oh, it is. If he liked ya, he was the nicest guy in the world, but if ya crossed him, ya were screwed. Sorta like you. Ya know, he used ta tell me these stories about his life before I was born, about how he traveled with some kid or grandkid of some vault dweller and some other people, jus' goin' around, helpin' people just fer the sake a helpin', defendin' those who couldn't defend themselves. I used ta think they were jus' fairy tales or somethin', ya know, ta teach me ta be a good person, but then I decided to travel with ya, and now I'm not so sure that those stories were fake. Ya two, ya are very similar."

"How so?" Mark asked. He knew what she meant, but he was trying to keep her mind off of her caravan. "Well, take today fer instance. Ya obviously don't like Oliver, so ya basically tell him ta fuck off, but then ya give all those caps to tha Followers. Now yer takin' me to ma caravan, and I'm not payin' ya or nothing. I mean, when 'Mata asked me ta come with ya'll, I jus' thought she felt sorry fer me." "Cass, Amata didn't ask you to come with us because she felt sorry for you. She asked you to come because she has a kind, caring heart. That's a big reason why love her."

"I know that now, but not when she asked me. It's kinda funny. He traveled with some vault dweller's kid, helpin' people, and now I'm doin' tha same thing." Mark didn't have the heart to tell her that his dad wasn't a true vault dweller, and that he wasn't actually born in a vault, so he didn't say anything. "So," Mark asked, "is your dad still alive?" "Probly not. When I was 'bout six or seven, he jus' started walkin' east one day and never came back. He didn't abandon me or my mother, before ya ask. It just happens. All he left me with was this necklace, a propensity fer hard drinkin', and a heart condition."

That last bit concerned Mark a bit. "Heart condition?" Mark asked. "Yeah, my mom explained it ta me. It's called a rhythm an' somethin' disorder." "Rhythm and conduction disorder?" "Yeah. How'd ya know that?" "My dad was the vault's doctor. I learned a few things. You need a cardio booster shot in case your heart stops beating. Do you have one on you?" "I appreciate the worry, but I'm fine. I've only had a couple of attacks, and I haven't had one in years, so I stopped worryin'." Mark made a mental note to have Arcade check the medical facilities for any cardio boosters when they got back.

When they finally found the caravan, it was not a pretty sight. It was lying in what was once probably a river, as there was a bridge nearby, but now it was just a ditch. There were a couple of rotting brahmin corpses, and the caravan wagon was nearly collapsed. The only thing that identified it as Cass' caravan was a rose painted on the side. When Cass first saw it, she looked like she was going to be sick. She approached it slowly. Mark and Boone hung back, letting her grieve, and making sure they weren't going to be attacked. Cass put her hand on the painted rose, as if touching it was going to give her some sense of closure. She just stood there for a few minutes, not saying anything and not moving.

Eventually she came back to her senses and walked out of the ditch. "Well," she said, trying to compose herself, "there's not much left, so if ya find anything, ya can have it. Otherwise, we can go." "Cass," Mark said, "if you need more time, take it. We're not going anywhere." She waved him off. "Nah, it's okay. Ya got that thing you gotta do fer House, and ya got 'Mata waitin' fer ya. They took all tha physical stuff, but I still got tha memories." Mark smiled, and then looked back at the caravan site. Something wasn't adding up. Mark got a focused look, and went down into the ditch. "What're ya doin'?" Cass asked Mark, as he poked around the remains. "Something doesn't feel right to me," Mark said. Boone apparently felt the same way, because he went to investigate something a little ways away.

"What do ya mean, Mark?" "Well, Amata told me that you said your caravan was burned, but I don't see any evidence of fire damage. But 'burned' doesn't necessarily mean 'fire.'" He continued to look around, and then suddenly got a look of discovery. "Cass, how long ago did your caravan get attacked?" "Two, three weeks ago, I think. Why?" "Then we're lucky the wind didn't get rid of the evidence." He picked up a white, flaky substance, one that he had seen many times before: Someone getting disintegrated with laser weaponry. "They used energy weapons," Mark said.

Before Cass could respond, Boone called out, "Hey guys, you might wanna check this out." He was about thirty yards away, reading a slip of paper near a rotting human corpse, which was wearing black combat armor with a lion's head with a flowing mane in the upper left corner of the chest plate. Boone handed the piece of paper to Mark. Once Mark read it, he frowned and looked at Cass. "What is it?" she asked. Mark sighed and looked Cass in the eye. "Cass, this wasn't a random hit. Your caravan was targeted."

 **I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. If any of you watch the show NCIS (the original), then I hope you caught the reference to it in this chapter. Until next time, and reviews are always welcome.**


	34. Chapter 34: Unsure

**Author's Note: In case anyone did not get the reference to NCIS that I noted at the end of the previous chapter, it was when Mark told Julie he never goes anywhere without a knife, which is Gibbs Rule #9. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcome.**

"Whaddya mean, I was targeted? Gimme that damn note." She ripped the note out of Mark's hands and read it:

 _Jason,_

 _Per our agreement with the Crimson Caravan Company and AM, the following caravans are to be eliminated:_

 _-Cassidy Caravans_

 _-Durable Dunn's Caravans_

 _-Griffin Wares Caravans_

 _I assume that you will be able to handle this matter with the utmost discretion, as usual_

 _Gloria_

As Cass read the note, her face went from a look of abject despondency to one of pure, unfiltered rage. "Of fuckin' course. I thought I recognized that damn symbol on that armor. This was the work of the fuckin' Van Graffs." Mark didn't recognize the name. "Who are the Van Graffs?" he asked. "Crime family out of Redding in the NCR," Boone said, "and they sell energy weapons out of the Silver Rush in Freeside." "No," Cass said, still fuming, "I'll tell ya what they are. They're a bunch a fuckin' scumbags, and they're tha next people that I'm gonna kill."

She looked back at the paper. "AM- I shoulda fuckin' known it. Alice Mc-fuckin-Lafferty. Now it's all makin' sense. Who tha fuck would wanna buy a destroyed caravan?" She crumpled up the paper and threw it on the ground. Mark picked it up, un-crumpled it, folded it, and put it in his pocket. They may need it as evidence. "That's it," Cass said, "I'm gonna get some extra ammo, some whiskey, and show them how a Cassidy settles accounts. Ya guys with me?" Mark and Boone looked at each other, but didn't say anything. "Guys?" "Look, Cass," Mark said, "I know that you're upset, but-" "Upset? I am fuckin' **livid**. This was ma caravan. Ma livelihood. Tha people that died, they're ma responsibility. What tha hell happened ta having ma back, or was that jus' a load a shit?"

"No, Cass," Mark said, "we have your back, but you're not thinking clearly right now. Like you said, I've got a wife that's expecting me to come back, and I think that she'd prefer it if I came back under my own power, and not one of you guys having to carry my dead body. And in case you've forgotten, she's carrying my kid, so I can't afford to be going off half-cocked." Cass threw her arms up in the air. "So that's how it is, huh? I help ya get yer revenge on that asshole who shot ya, but when I need yer help, yer gonna bail on me? I wore a fuckin' dress fer ya. I have NEVER worn a fuckin dress." "Cass," Mark said, "we're not bailing on you, but we've gotta be smart about this."

He pulled out the note. "This note, it could've been written by the Van Graffs just to frame the Crimson Caravan, and them buying your caravan could've just been a coincidence. We need hard evidence from the Crimson Caravan that matches up with this. If we find it, then I will be more than happy to take action against them, but not until then. You think I don't know what it's like to lose people you care about? That Boone doesn't? I saw my dad die right in front of my eyes, and there was nothing that I could do to save him. I know what it's like to want justice, to want retribution, but we're going up against a probably well-trained and well- equipped crime family. How are you gonna get justice for those you lost if you're dead? If we do this, we do this right. I have too much to lose otherwise. Besides, right now, we have the advantage because they don't know that we know about this, and we don't want to waste it."

Cass pursed her lips. "Fine," she finally said, "but how do ya propose we get this information?" Mark smiled. "I _may_ know someone who works for the Crimson Caravan who owes me a huge favor." "Well then," Cass said, "what tha fuck are we waitin' fer? Let's go." "No," Boone said flatly. Mark and Cass looked at him. "You're too emotional right now. If we go there, and you see McLafferty, are you one hundred percent certain that you won't start shooting?" "Yeah," Mark said, "Boone's got a good point. You need to let the two of us handle this part." "And where tha fuck am I supposed ta wait fer ya?" "Wait at the King's headquarters in Freeside. Tell him the Courier sent you." Cass got a resigned look on her face. "Alright. Let's go." They began to walk. "Hey Cass?" Mark asked. "What?" "An old friend once told me that in all things, a calm heart must prevail. There are other ways to hurt people besides shooting them." "Yer friend sounds like a wuss." Mark chuckled. "Trust me. If you saw him, a wuss would be the last thing that you would call him."

(30 minutes later, Lucky 38)

It was close to 1 PM, and they had just eaten lunch. Arcade had whipped up some mac and cheese for the three of them, and now he was doing a check-up on Amata in the game room. "Any dizziness? Headaches? Nausea?" Arcade asked. "I'm not feeling dizzy, maybe a little headache, and I've been nauseous since I got pregnant, so you're gonna have to be a bit more specific on that one," Amata responded. Arcade smiled. "Fair enough. Any more nausea than usual?" "No." "Ok, well let's just see how your memory's doing." Arcade pulled out a paper. Mark had written down a list of questions that she should know the answers to, along with the answers. "Full name?" "Amata Franklin." "Good. Maiden name?" "Almodovar." "Husband's full name?" "Mark Franklin." "Ok. Your birthdate?" "August 12th, 2258." "Husband's birthdate?" "May 16, 2258." "Ok. Name of your-" Arcade raised an eyebrow, "-insane father?" "Did Mark seriously write that?" Amata asked. "Apparently, he did. Did he not like your father, or-" "Yeah, you could say that. Anyway, the answer is Alphonse Almodovar."

Veronica, who had been listening to them, decided to sneak back into Mark and Amata's room to look at that briefcase again. She quietly opened and closed the door, and got the briefcase out from under their bed. It seemed to be sturdy, and in a lot better shape than a lot of things you could find in the wastes. It required a three-digit code to open. She tried Amata's birthday (8-1-2), and Mark's birthday (5-1-6), but it didn't open. She put it down on the bed, and looked around the room for inspiration. She saw something hanging on the wall. It looked like some kind of framed quote:

 _I am Alpha and Omega_

 _The Beginning and the End_

 _I will give unto him_

 _That is athirst of_

 _The fountain of the_

 _Water of life_

 _Freely_

 _Revelations 21:6_

'Well,' she thought, 'whatever this is, it must mean something to them. Maybe that's the code.' She went back over to the briefcase. She flipped the dials to 2-1-6, but that still didn't work. She decided that she'd spent enough time in here. She put the briefcase back under the bed, and left the room quietly. As she shut the door and turned around, she jumped a little. ED-E was floating there, staring at her. She pointed a finger at him. "Don't judge me." ED-E just beeped.

(Same time, Gun Runners)

After grabbing a quick lunch of some questionable-tasting meat from a roadside vendor, the three of them found themselves at the same Gun Runners kiosk that Mark had visited before they went to Fortification Hill. Mark was particularly fond of the green combat armor that had been gifted to him by Reilly after saving the Rangers from the roof of the Statesman Hotel, but with the increasingly dangerous stuff that House wanted him to do, he decided that a change of armor was warranted. He needed something more heavy-duty, and this new armor fit the bill perfectly.

It was armor that was based on pre-war riot gear. It was a green camouflaged color, with full leg and arm guards (although he had to adjust the left arm guard a bit so that he could still use his pip-boy), a chest plate, and bulky shoulder pads with a five-pointed star on each. It also came with a brown, sleeveless duster, one that reminded Mark of the one that Sheriff Simms wore. The helmet that came with it had a gas mask and protective eye shields, and had a night vision and infrared vision modes. No one would see his face unless he wanted them to. "Damn," Cass said as Mark stepped out of a makeshift dressing room, "ya look pretty bad-ass." Mark unclasped the helmet and took it off. "Yeah, well, for what I'm paying for it, it better do more than look bad-ass." "Isn't Amata gonna be mad that yer spendin' all this money?" "I doubt it. Between what we have from back east, and with what House is paying, we'll be fine. Besides, it's technically my money, since I've earned it all." Mark paused. "Don't tell her I said that, though." Boone looked him over. "You could probably pass as a veteran ranger in that armor," he said.

When they arrived at Freeside's east gate, Cass reluctantly broke off and headed towards the Kings HQ. The Crimson Caravan branch was a couple of miles away. Mark realized that, with the new armor, it was a lot easier to carry his duffel bag and weapons, but it restricted his field of vision somewhat. He and Boone walked in silence for a few minutes, and Mark was debating whether he should bring up a particular subject with Boone. 'You know what,' he thought, 'screw it.' "Hey Boone?" "Yeah?" "I, uh, I think it's time that you told me what happened with your wife." Boone stopped in his tracks and stared at him. "Any particular reason you're bringing this up now?" Boone inquired.

Mark took off his helmet. "Boone, I'm not an idiot." "Never said that you were." "Boone, look, the night that we met in Novac, you told me you knew that your wife was dead. I didn't ask how you knew because I barely knew you. Then you asked to come with us until we found Benny, who's been dead for four days. You knew about the sniper's nest, and when we got there it looked like it hadn't been used in a while." Mark paused. Boone said nothing, so Mark continued. "I've seen the way you look at Amata. You know she's pregnant, and you know that I know that Carla was pregnant, so-" "You think that I'm still here because fate has given me a second chance to protect a pregnant woman?" "The thought has crossed my mind more than once, Boone." "I don't see any point in talking about it," Boone said. "She's dead. Talking about it isn't going to bring her back."

"No," Mark said, "it won't, but it might not hurt to talk about it. Look, when my dad was killed, I was devastated. For various reasons that I won't go into right now, Amata wasn't with me at the time, so I had no one to talk to about it. All I wanted was vengeance, and that fire consumed me. Sure, I killed the asshole responsible, and it helped a bit, but that fire still burned. Eventually, I talked to Amata about it, and the fire went away. You might think talking about it won't help, but believe me, it will." Boone sighed, and leaned back against a wall of a dilapidated house that they were passing. Mark stood next to him. Boone stared straight ahead as he talked. "She…I tracked her down. Southeast to Cottonwood Cove. They were selling her. Saw it through my scope. Whole place was swarming with Legion. Hundreds of them. Bidding for things no man has a right to. I just had my rifle with me. Just me against all of them, so…I took the shot."

Mark just stood there and listened. In a way, Boone reminded him of Elder Lyons. World-weary, a man who had seen too much far too often. "That's, um, that's horrible Boone. Although I guess it's better than being a Legion slave." Mark wasn't sure if he would be able to take that shot if it was Amata on the other end. "Yeah…what they do to women, it's worse than death. It was like being forced to watch something that you can't stop." He paused. "I don't know why I'm still here. Maybe you're right, that the universe has given me a second chance to protect Amata like I couldn't protect Carla. Maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment, you and Amata the reincarnation of me and Carla, what she and I had, the universe torturing me for all the bad things that I've done. If I were you, I'd keep my distance. Her, too. I've got bad things coming to me, and if you're not careful, she's gonna end up dead, too."

"That's not gonna happen, Boone. I won't let it," Mark said. "Yeah," Boone said, scoffing at him, "just like I thought I wasn't gonna let anything happen to Carla. You can't protect them all the time. It's impossible." Mark patted Boone on the shoulder. "The thing is, Boone," Mark said as he put the helmet back on, "doing the impossible is kinda my forte. Besides, I'm not the only one protecting her. Come on, let's go." Boone looked at him. "How old are you?" Boone asked. "Nineteen, why?" Mark responded. "Hmm…no reason," Boone said.

They finally reached the Crimson Caravan branch. It was a compound with an open gate entrance with a guard next to it. The concrete walls surrounding the area were about ten feet high. The guard gave both of them a cursory glance as they entered, but made no move to stop them. Inside there was an enclosed brahmin pen, an area for farming, a vendor, and three wooden buildings. There were employees milling about, and Mark noticed that there was a woman with a pair of binoculars looking off to the northeast, and Mark wondered why she was looking at a concrete wall. Mark looked around for Ringo, and found him leaning on the brahmin pen. He was wearing a set of leather armor and was carrying a brown messenger bag over his shoulder.

Mark and Boone walked up to him. "Ringo," Mark said, his voice distorted through the helmet. "Yeah?" Ringo said, looking at the two of them. He started to freak out a bit. Mark couldn't blame him. A man in full combat armor, carrying an assault rifle in his right hand and an NCR sniper walking up to you would've freaked most people out. "Who-who are you guys?" People started to look at them. "Ringo," Mark said, "calm down. I'm a friend." "I don't know either of you guys." "No, you don't know him," Mark said, pointing to Boone, "but you know me. I saved your ass in Goodsprings." Ringo looked confused for a couple of moments, and then it dawned on him. "Ma-" Mark clamped his left hand over Ringo's mouth. " **Don't** say my name. It's for your own protection. Ok?" Ringo nodded, and Mark removed his hand. "What-what are you doing here? Who's he?" "Ringo, we need to talk. Let's take a walk." Mark put his hand on Ringo's back and guided him towards the front gate.

They walked for a few minutes until they came to a nearly collapsed building. They went inside, and as soon as Mark made sure they couldn't be seen, Mark unclasped and took off the helmet. "How've you been, Ringo?" "Uh, good, I guess. You freaked me out a bit back there." "Sorry about that, but this needs to be kept on the down low." "Hey," Ringo said, "did you hear about that guy who got shot in Goodsprings? The guy who became the Courier? Small world, huh?" Mark turned his head so Ringo could see the scar. "Holy shit," Ringo said, shocked, " _you're_ the courier?" "Yes," Mark said, "and keep your voice down." "So, what do you want with me? Wait, are you gonna kill me?" Mark chuckled. "Ringo, I have no reason to kill you. Besides, if I wanted you dead, you'd already be dead. I've come to collect on that debt."

"Ok, sure, uh, what do you need?" "All I need is information." "That's it? Just information?" "Yes," Mark said. "First question: which building is McLafferty's office in?" "Why do you need to know that?" Ringo asked nervously. "It's better if you didn't know why. Just answer the question." "It's in the building in the middle of the compound." "What's the layout?" "Uh, there are three offices right next to each other on the left as you enter. McLafferty's is the last one. The rest of the building is just an open waiting area." "Last question, Ringo. What's the security like? More specifically, what's it like at night?" "Well, from what I've seen, there's just the one guard out front. The caravan guards usually sleep at night, and they only lock the door to the office." "Thanks, Ringo. That's all I need to know."

"That's it? So we're good?" "Yeah, Ringo, we're good. Although, there is one more thing. Some things are gonna happen, and some things may end up going missing, so it'll be for the best if you're not there when it happens." "What are you talking about? You want me to leave?" "Yeah," Mark said, "a lot of people saw you leave with two heavily armed strangers, and if something goes missing, you're gonna be the first person they're gonna question." "Well, where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do?" Mark bent down and unzipped his bag. He pulled out a key, a sack of caps, and a submachine gun with some ammo he got at Gun Runners. He handed them to Ringo.

"Go back to Goodsprings. You can have mine and Amata's house. A town guard position was recently vacated. Help Sunny protect the town. There's a war on the horizon, and the town needs to be defended." Mark noticed the unsure look on his face. "Ringo, I consider you to be a friend, and that's why I'm giving you this chance to get out before the shit hits the fan. I'm not gonna force you to go, but it would be in your best interest if you did." Ringo looked at the items Mark had just given him, and then sighed. "Alright. I guess it'll be nice to put roots down somewhere." He managed a smile. "Maybe I'll see you around?" Mark fastened the helmet back in place, picked up his bag, and readied his assault rifle. "Maybe. Goodbye, Ringo." Mark and Boone headed back towards Vegas, and Ringo started the long walk back to Goodsprings.

By the time the three of them got back to the Lucky 38, it was quarter past three. Cass got off the elevator and headed towards the game room. "I need a fuckin' drink," was all she said before she disappeared. Boone went into his room, and Mark took off his helmet and went into the kitchen to get some water. He found Arcade sitting at the table, going over some notes. "Oh, hey, Mark," Arcade said, "how was your day?" "Complicated," Mark said as he got a bottle of water out of the fridge and downed it, "how's Amata doing?" "Quite well, actually. I believe she should be back to normal in a day or two." "Good to hear. Listen, Arcade, I need a favor." "Sure, what's up?" "Apparently Cass has a heart condition, and needs a cardio booster shot in case her heart stops. Next time you go down to the lab, could you check the medical facilities to see if we have any?" "Uh, yeah, sure, no problem," Arcade said. "Thanks. I'm gonna go take a nap." He picked his helmet and bag off of the floor and went to his room.

When he opened the door, he found Veronica sitting on one of the couches, and Amata was sitting up against the headboard, reading a book. "Hey, Mark," Veronica said. "Hey, Veronica. Thanks for watching Amata for me. I'll take it from here." "Anytime," she said as she got up and left the room, closing the door behind her. "How're you feeling, babe?" Mark asked as he disarmed and took off his armor. "Good. That's some, um, heavy duty armor you've got there." "Yep," Mark responded. "So, how was your day?" Amata asked. "Oh, you know, the usual. Made a new enemy, found out Cass' caravan was targeted, met an old friend, and made plans to break into a compound. You know, the usual." Amata didn't look up from her book.

"Who's this new enemy that you've made?" "Eh, no one important, just the general of the NCR military," Mark said nonchalantly. "How exactly did you manage to piss off the general of the NCR military?" "I went for that meeting with the ambassador this morning, and the general just happened to be there, and he demanded that I do things for them, and you know how I get when asshole demand I do things." Mark finally finished taking off the armor, leaving him in just his underwear and a white t-shirt. He fell face first onto the bed. "Mark, one day that mouth of yours is gonna get you killed." "Babe," he said, his voice muffled by his pillow, "people have been trying to kill me since I've left the vault, and no one's succeeded yet, obviously." There was silence for a few moments, and then Mark turned his head to look at her.

"Amata, why do I keep doing this?" "Doing what?" "Helping out anyone who asks me to. Do I have some kind of messiah complex or something? You know, when I decided to come out here, I just wanted a quiet, peaceful life, where no one knew who I was or what I did. Then, you came along, and, I mean, I still wanted that quiet life, but then I began thinking, you know, we could live in a small town, have regular jobs. Maybe have two, three kids, who wouldn't know what happened in DC, who wouldn't have to deal with all of the crap that we had to deal with. Now I'm just doing what I did back east, helping people just because they ask, and now I've ended up in the middle of another fucking war." Amata closed the book and looked at him. "Well, we'll circle back to how many kids you think we're gonna have, but Mark, you help people because you're a good person. Your dad raised you right. It's as simple as that."

"Is it, though? Is it because I was raised in a vault, and not numbed to the violence the way that everyone who was raised in the wastes was? What if I was raised in the wastes? Would I still have felt the need to help, or would have I been one of those guys who only looked out for themselves?" Amata sighed. "Mark, I can't answer those questions. As much as you want me to, I can't. Maybe if your mother hadn't died, and you hadn't been raised in the vault, maybe all of that stuff you did wouldn't have happened. But you know what else wouldn't have happened?" "What?"

She put her hand on his back. "Us, Mark. Us. You said it yourself in that message that you left me. If your mother hadn't died, you probably wouldn't have been brought to the vault, we would have never met, and we wouldn't be here right now. In love, married, and expecting a child. God knows where you'd be, and I would've probably taken over for my dad by now, blissfully unaware of everything the wastes had to offer, good and bad. I don't know what our lives would have been like, or how you would've turned out, and honestly, I don't care one bit. You are the man I love, and I love you for who you are, not what you might have been, and I couldn't imagine my life without you. Now, I don't know where this self-doubt came from all of a sudden, but you need to knock it the hell off, because honestly, it's kind of annoying."

Mark chuckled. "Come on, babe, lay with me." She put the book down on her nightstand, and laid down, facing away from him. The nestled together, and Mark draped his arm over her. "Thank you, Amata, for putting up with everything. The vault, here, my general stupidity. You are my rock, and I couldn't imagine my life without you, either." "Hey, I'm not just a pretty face." "You got that right, babe." There was silence for a few minutes as they just laid there.

"You know," Amata said quietly, "I miss this. Just the two of us, like what we had in Goodsprings." "Me too," Mark said. "Tell you what. Once you're all better, we'll go on a date. We'll get all dressed up, go to that vault, have some dinner, rent a room, and see where the evening takes us. It's kinda been a fantasy of mine to make love to you in a vault." "I'm not gonna lie," she said, "It's _kinda_ been a fantasy of mine, too. Now, uh, let's get back to how many kids you think I'm gonna pump out. You seriously want three kids?" Mark didn't say anything. "Mark?" Mark started snoring. Amata shook her head. "Alright, we can talk about it later. I know you're tired," she said quietly. Amata listened to him snore, feeling at peace.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Anyone else excited for the creation kit? Unfortunately, I have to wait until June since I have a PS4, but I hope the wait is worth it.** **Until next time, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**


	35. Chapter 35: Ye Shall Know the Truth

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is doing well, and that you are all enjoying the story up to this point. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**

Mark awoke with a start. The entire room was dark, so he rationalized that it was nighttime or early morning. He reached over to see if Amata was next to him, but she wasn't. He looked at his pip-boy: 11:01 PM. He turned on the light on his nightstand, and rubbed his eyes. He saw his new armor and his weapons, which had been arranged neatly on the coffee table. Amata must have done that while he was sleeping, because he had just dumped everything on the floor when he got back earlier. He got up, and after using the bathroom, went into the hallway. There were voices coming from the game room, so he went to investigate. He found Cass, Veronica, and Amata sitting around the bar, laughing at something.

He saw Amata drinking something out of a bottle. "I hope that's not a beer, babe," Mark said as he walked towards them. "Hey, sleepyhead," Amata said, "no, it's not." She showed him the label. It was a Sunset Sarsaparilla. "Do you honestly think that I would be that stupid to drink a beer while I'm pregnant?" "Just call me careful," Mark said. "Sure thing, Careful," Amata said, smiling. Mark smiled back. "So, what were you guys laughing about?" "Amata was jus' tellin' us 'bout that test ya'll had ta take in the vault. What's it called?" "The GOAT," Amata said. "You guys really had one test to tell you what you were supposed to do for the rest of your lives?" Veronica asked. "Yeah," Mark said, grabbing a beer, "it did seem a bit stupid. Hey, Amata, you remember Butch's reaction when he got his results?" Amata laughed. "Yeah, that was hilarious," she said.

"Who's Butch?" Cass asked. "You remember that gang I told you about the night we first came to Vegas?" Veronica nodded, and Cass said, "Yeah, what'd ya call 'em?" "The Tunnel Snakes. He was their leader, and he basically tormented the both of us our entire lives. Me physically, her emotionally. Our teacher told him that he was going to be the vault's hairdresser." Cass and Veronica burst out laughing." "Yeah, that was my reaction, too. He started freaking out, saying that he was a barber, not a hairdresser. It was literally the funniest thing that I ever saw."

"So, what'd you get, lover boy?" Cass asked. "I was training to be the vault's electrical engineer." "And I was put on the supervisory track," Amata interjected. "Yeah," Mark said, "because with your dad as Overseer, you weren't exactly going to be a garbage burner." "Hey, I was fully qualified to be Overseer, regardless of what my dad was." "Yes, and your glorious reign as Overseer lasted a grand total of seven days." Amata stuck out her tongue at Mark, and Mark responded in kind. "So," Cass said, "how'd ya'll get from there to livin' out here?" The room suddenly got very quiet, and Mark and Amata looked at each other. Mark changed the subject. "So, Cass, you seem to be in a better mood." She took a drink of whiskey. "Yeah, well, while ya were conked out, I did some thinkin', and ya were right. I probly woulda got us all killed. Thanks fer talkin' me down."

"Anytime," Mark said as he finished off his beer and put the bottle on the counter. "Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I have a compound to break into." Mark walked out of the game room and back into his room, turning on the overhead light as he did. He put his armor back on, and got re-armed, albeit less armed than before. This mission was going to require stealth, so he was only planning on bringing his silenced 10 mm pistol, his trench knife, and his assault rifle. If everything went according to plan, he wouldn't need any more than that, although he hoped he wouldn't have to use any of them. As he got ready, Amata came in and shut the door. She sat down on the bed and watched him get dressed. "You're going to be careful, right?" she asked. "Don't worry, babe. If what Ringo told me is accurate, the only defenses that I have to deal with are one guard and a locked door. This isn't exactly the hardest place that I've ever had to break into."

He finished getting dressed and held the helmet under his right arm. Amata walked around him. "Well, I must say, you do fill out that armor nicely. It's kinda turning me on." They kissed. "Good to know, babe." "Oh," Amata said, "I have some good news. Arcade said I should be able to sleep normally tonight, so no one needs to watch me." Mark smiled. "That's great news, babe," he said as he put the helmet on and picked up his assault rifle. "I'll be back later. Don't wait up." "Good luck, Mark," he heard her say as he left the room and closed the door. He walked towards the elevator and pressed the down button. The door opened, and Mark was about to walk in when Boone came up beside him.

"Mark, you got a minute?" Mark stuck his hand in the doorway so the door wouldn't close. "Sure, Boone, what's up?" "Listen, I know that you're doing this for Cass, but the people there, they're just NCR citizens trying to earn a living, so I would appreciate it if you didn't kill anyone." "Boone, contrary to what you may think, I don't enjoy killing. I only do it out of necessity. I will try to do this as quickly and quietly as possible, alright?" Boone nodded. "You know," Boone said, "I was a bit surprised when you told me that you were only nineteen. The way you carry yourself, the way you plan, you seem a lot older." "Thanks, Boone. Good night," Mark said as he got in the elevator and watched the door close.

(10 minutes later)

Mark began his walk through Freeside, and as he did, he checked the infrared and night-vision modes on his helmet. There were buttons on the side to switch between the two, and one to return the helmet to where he would see normally. They both seemed to be working. As he walked, he held his assault rifle across his chest, and he thought about what Boone had just said about him only being nineteen. Besides Amata, he was pretty sure everyone else in the 38 had close to ten years on him, and Arcade was old enough to be his father. They had probably seen a lot more than he had, and yet, for some inexplicable reason, they seemed to rally around him, looking to him to be their leader. But, like Boone said, maybe it was because he seemed older.

He didn't really feel like a leader. Amata and Sarah Lyons are far better leaders than he could ever hope to be. Anything he knew about leading people, he learned from them. If his friends believed in him, then he would take up the torch as their leader. He chuckled a bit. If someone had told him a year ago that this was what his life was going to be like, he would have suggested a visit to the vault's psychiatrist, or perhaps multiple visits. He looked around Freeside as he walked. It was eerily calm, with a few streetlights illuminating parts of the road, although the alleyways remained dark.

He continued to walk, and as he passed by a gutted, yet still standing building, when two people came out from the doorway he just passed and stood behind him, pointing pistols at him. At the same time, another man came out from the side of the building and stood in front of Mark, pointing a submachine gun. The man in front of him was about Mark's height, with short black hair, and they were wearing what looked like some kind of leather armor. 'Damn, I must be getting rusty. I should've sensed them,' Mark thought. They weren't wearing rags, so they probably weren't locals, and they didn't look like Kings. The man in front, who seemed to be their leader, spoke. "Give me your rifle, and anything else valuable you've got, and come with us." "Who are you guys, mercenaries? Or just some group of idiots looking to make a name for themselves?" "It doesn't matter who we are," the man continued, "we know who you are, Courier. Now do as I say. You're outnumbered three to one."

Mark chuckled. "Guys, just slink back into the shadows. Trust me, it'll be less hazardous to your health." "Just hand over your damn weapons like he said," said one of the two guys behind him. Mark took a moment to gauge their distances from him. The two men behind him were standing about three feet away from each other, and about four feet from Mark, and the man in front of him was about four feet from him. 'They never learn,' Mark thought as he smiled, although they couldn't see him smiling. "You really want my rifle? Fine, here you go." Mark shoved his assault rifle with both hands at the man, who tried unsuccessfully to catch it. Mark deftly went behind the man in front of him, and grabbed the collar of his neck. The two guys behind him tried to shoot Mark, but he was already behind their leader, using his body as a human shield. Mark then grabbed his trench knife and threw it at the man on his right, lodging it on his neck. He dropped his gun and started gurgling, which probably would have been a scream had his windpipe not been split in two. Mark then grabbed his pistol and finished off the last man with one shot to the head.

Mark dropped the man that he was holding, whose torso was riddled with bullet holes. The whole sequence took less than ten seconds. "Hmm, maybe I'm not as rusty as I thought." Mark looked at the carnage, and took his knife out of the guy's neck, and wiped it off on the man's armor. He checked his armor. There was some blood on it. 'Dammit, I hate trying to get blood out of my armor,' he thought. He heard some people running towards the area, so he raised his pistol, but then he saw two members of the Kings coming to see what happened. They didn't know what to make of the situation. Mark picked up his assault rifle, and holstered his knife and pistol. "Gentlemen," Mark said as he passed by them, "tell the King that the Courier says hi." For no reason at all, Mark started to quietly sing the song "Way Back Home" as he walked away.

" _Don't know why I left the homestead_

 _I really must confess_

 _I'm a weary exile_

 _Singing my song of loneliness..."_

About an hour later, Mark found himself outside the Crimson Caravan compound. There was a solitary light illuminating the entrance, but it did nothing to keep the guard awake, as he was leaning against the wall, sleeping. Mark, who had a stealth boy on his right wrist and already activated, walked right past the guard and into the compound. He activated the night vision on his helmet, and everything was bathed in a green light. 'This would have been infinitely more useful when I was wandering through the DC metros than my pip-boy light,' he thought, 'and wouldn't have given my position away to any enemies that were down there.' He looked around the compound, but the only sign of movement were the brahmin in their pen. He continued to walk and came to the building that Ringo had said was where McLafferty's office was.

He then switched from night vision to the infrared mode, and checked to see if there were any heat signatures coming from the building. He made on circle around it, and after seeing no blotches of red, turned off the IR vision and approached the front door. He reached for the handle, and found that the door was locked. So far, everything that Ringo had told him was accurate. He deactivated the stealth boy, and after doing a quick check, took a small screwdriver and bobby pin out of a pocket on his right leg guard. It wasn't exactly the hardest lock he ever had to pick, and the door was open in no time. He slipped in, and quietly shut the door and re-locked it. He activated the night vision and looked around. The building was as Ringo described it, with the three offices on the left and the open waiting area.

He found Alice McLafferty's office, which had a plaque on the door the read, "Alice McLafferty, New Vegas Branch Manager." He opened the door, went in and turned on the light. Him getting blinded made him realize that he had forgotten to turn off the night vison mode. He let out a quick yell, dropped his rifle, and ripped off the helmet. He continued to rub his eyes, and eventually stopped and blinked rapidly to try to get his eyes back to normal. It took a few minutes, but eventually he stopped seeing random dots and could see clearly again. 'Note to self. Night vision is _not_ to be used in the light.'

He looked around McLafferty's office. There was a wooden desk with a terminal on it, a filing cabinet off to his left, and a couple of chairs in front of the desk. Hanging on the wall behind the desk was a picture of the woman he assumed was McLafferty shaking hands with a well-dressed man. He sat at the desk and booted up the terminal. After hacking it, he searched through the files for anything that had to do with Cass or the Van Graffs. He looked through financial records, and while not what he was looking for, he downloaded them to his pip-boy. He also found a list of current and future jobs that the Crimson Caravan was hired for, and found one that said Ringo was due to leave on a delivery in a couple of days. "Not anymore," Mark said quietly.

He continued looking, but found nothing related to what he was looking for. He sat back in the chair and ran a hand through his hair. 'Maybe it was just the Van Graffs trying to frame the Crimson Caravan,' he thought. They were a crime family, after all, according to Boone, so it seems like something they might do. He looked around the room, and saw that the picture Mark noticed earlier wasn't flat against the wall. He got up and took the picture off of the wall, and he found a safe. Mark mentally kicked himself. They probably wouldn't leave evidence of dirty dealings on a computer. He put his ear to the safe, and once he found the right combination, the safe popped open. There were a couple of sacks of caps, and a few documents. Mark grabbed the document on top of the pile. Bingo. It was a message to Gloria Van Graff confirming what they had found at the site of Cass' caravan. He folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

He read the other documents. They implicated McLafferty and the Crimson Caravan Company itself in a number of shady business transactions, including extortion, bribing NCR officials, and a whole host of other illegal activities. Mark took them all and put them in his pocket. He figured if he was going to take down McLafferty, he might as well go big. He closed the safe, put the picture back over it, and shut down the computer. He put his helmet back on, picked up his assault rifle, turned off the light, and exited the room. He checked to make sure that no one else was in the building, and once he found it was clear, he activated the stealth boy. He opened the door and walked outside, making sure to re-lock it as he left. He walked through the main gate, and once he was far enough away, he deactivated the stealth boy and began a brisk walk back to the Lucky 38.

It was just after 2 am by the time Mark got back to the 38. He took off his helmet and looked around. It was quiet, but there was a light on in the kitchen. Mark walked in and saw Cass slumped over the table, her hair askew. Mark put down the helmet and the rifle and ran over. 'Oh, shit, please tell me her heart didn't give out,' he thought. He shook her. "Cass?" Mark said worriedly. "Cass!" he said as he shook her again. She started to move. "Wha? Wha' happen?" she said groggily as she looked up. Mark exhaled. "Cass, I think you overdid it on the whiskey. You need to go to bed." "Fuck tha'. Did'ya ge' tha ev'dence?" "Yes, but you're so drunk that you're not gonna remember a word I say. Come on, I'm taking you to bed." "Not witout buyin' me dinner first', yer not," she said failing to contain a laugh. "Yeah," Mark said, "you're definitely wasted." Cass got up, but nearly fell over. Mark caught her and hefted her over his right shoulder.

"You know, Cass, there is such a thing as moderation. If you keep drinking like this, your liver's gonna fail," Mark said as he carried her into the hallway. "Moder-what? Never heard a it." 'No, of course you haven't,' Mark thought. He was about to open the door to her room, when the door to their right opened. Amata came out, wearing a white tank top and sweatpants. She rubbed her eyes. "Mark, what's going on?" she asked. "Lover boy's gonna bed me, tha's what's goin' on," Cass said, laughing and slapping Mark on the back. Amata raised an eyebrow. "Amata, I'm just bringing her to bed. She's drunk off her ass. Go back to bed. I'll be there in a couple minutes."

Mark opened the door to Cass' room and turned on the light. It came as no surprise to Mark that there were empty whiskey bottles everywhere. Mark laid her gently on the bed. "Alright, Cass, get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning. Sleep on your side so you don't choke on your own vomit." Mark turned around and headed for the door. "Mar', wait.'" Mark turned around. "Yeah, Cass?" "Yer a true frien', helpin me out. 'Mata too. M'glad a met ya'll and…" She started mumbling something unintelligible, and her eyes closed and she started snoring. Mark turned her on her side. He walked over to the door, and looked at her before he turned off the light. "We're gonna make this right, Cass. I promise," Mark said quietly as he turned off the light and shut the door.

 **I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I'll be the first to admit it, I'm not great at writing fight scenes, but I did the best that I could. Anyway, until next time, and reviews are always welcome.**


	36. Chapter 36: Up Your Arsenal

Amata woke up the next morning, turned over in the bed and reached for Mark, but found that his half of the bed was empty. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and saw him sitting at the desk, looking at the papers that he had retrieved the night before. "Mark, what are you doing?" Mark sighed. "I don't know, that's the problem. I have all of this evidence, and when I tell Cass about this, I just know that she's gonna want to go on the warpath and kill the Van Graffs and McLafferty, and I told her that I would help her take action against them. The Van Graffs, they're mercenaries, and not the good kind like the Rangers, so they can die for all I care. McLafferty, however, is a different story. I think that she's more useful alive than dead."

Amata got out of bed, went over to Mark, and started to massage his neck. Mark groaned in pleasure. "Mark, whatever you decide, you know that I'm gonna stand behind you. Besides, you're pretty good at convincing people of things. You have a very talented tongue." "Well, you above all should know that," Mark said a bit mischievously. Amata rolled her eyes. "You do know that you do have to tell Cass about this, right?" Amata asked. "Yeah, yeah, I know. And did you seriously think that I was gonna cheat on you in the room that is right next to ours?" "Well," Amata said, as she headed towards the bathroom, "you have done some pretty bold things in your life." "Yeah," Mark said, "I'm bold. I'm not stupid."

Mark put on some pants and went into the kitchen, where he found Veronica eating a bowl of Sugar Bombs, and he saw Boone standing out on the balcony overlooking the Strip. "Mornin' Mark," Veronica said with her mouth full. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to speak with a full mouth?" Mark asked. "Yeah, probably at some point. So, how did your breaking and entering go last night?" Mark looked out in the hallway. "Cass isn't up yet, is she?" "Not that I'm aware of," said Veronica. Mark leaned back in the chair and sighed. "What? Didn't find anything?" "No," Mark said, "I found plenty. The Van Graffs and McLafferty are in cahoots with each other, and I found plenty of evidence about other probably illegal acts that the Crimson Caravan is involved in." "Did you seriously just say 'cahoots'?" Mark smiled. "Maybe. I've always wanted to use that word, and I think it fits here."

Boone came back in the kitchen and closed the balcony door. "Mark," Boone said as he nodded to Mark and got some water out of the fridge. "Boone. You'll be happy to know that no NCR citizens died last night, at least none at their compound. There were some idiots who tried to attack me in Freeside last night, but I don't know if they were NCR citizens or not." "So," Veronica continued, "are you worried about how Cass is going to react when you tell her?" "Yeah. I mean, the Van Graffs, they can die for all I care, but I think McLafferty could be useful." "How so?" Veronica asked. "Do you remember what Julie Farkas told us about the Crimson Caravan the first time we spoke with her?"

Veronica thought back. "She said…she said that they needed a regular supply of medicine and the Crimson Caravan Company was charging them too much." She paused. "Wait. You're thinking that we can use this as leverage to get a better deal on medical supplies for the Followers, aren't you?" "That's exactly what I'm thinking. But I'm not just gonna waltz back in there and start demanding things. I need someone who holds a bit more sway over them." Mark looked at Boone. "Boone, McCarran is an NCR base, right?" Boone nodded. "Who's the CO over there? Hopefully someone who isn't a giant asshole?" Boone chuckled. "No. Colonel James Hsu is the CO at McCarran. He's the exact opposite of Oliver. He's a smart man, and a great tactical thinker. He'd probably be General by now if Oliver didn't know the President." "Well, that's good," Mark said, "do you think that you'd be able to get us in there?" "Shouldn't be a problem. My old unit's stationed over there." "Thanks, Boone," Mark said as Boone walked out of the room.

Mark leaned in close to Veronica and spoke softly. "Listen, Veronica, after we do that, I think we can go and I can talk to the Brotherhood." Veronica choked on the Sugar Bombs. After drinking some water, she said, "Today?" "Yeah, I mean, unless you need some time to get ready, then we can do it another day, but I figured that you'd want to get it done sooner rather than later." "No…no you're right. This needs to get done now." She smiled, but it looked a bit forced to Mark. "Oh, just so you know, the bunker has a radio jamming signal, so you won't be able to communicate with Amata while you're down there." Cass walked into the room holding her head. "Morning, Cass," Veronica said. Cass mumbled something as she grabbed some water out of the fridge. "Good luck," Veronica said quietly to Mark as she got up from the table. "Gee, thanks for the support," Mark whispered sarcastically as she left the room and Cass sat down at the table across from him.

She took a big swig of water. "Alrigh', talk ta me, did ya find anythin'?" "Yes," Mark said, "I did find evidence that the Van Graffs and the Crimson Caravan were working together." Cass looked at him. "Ya got yer evidence. Can we kick some ass now?" "Well, yes and no, and before you say anything, just hear me out. The Van Graffs deserve to die. They've probably done a lot worse stuff than this. But McLafferty, we can use her to get a better deal on medical supplies that the Followers desperately need, and for that I need her alive. Trust me when I say that if this works, she will suffer for the rest of her life."

Mark half-expected, no, he _fully_ expected Cass to start complaining about them not just out-and-out killing McLafferty, but she didn't. She rubbed her head. "Alrigh', Mark." Mark was very surprised. "Really? Just like that?" "I dunno," she said, "ya seem ta know what yer doin.' Yer our leader, an' I trust ya. I'm too hung over ta argue right now. Plus, I guess, tha Followers are good people, an' they helped out 'Mata an' all that. Seein' McLafferty suffer, would bring me more 'njoyment than jus' killin' her." Mark smiled. "Don't start getting soft on me now. You just need to direct your anger towards the Van Graffs." Cass managed a smile. "Oh, don' worry. I got plenty a anger fer tha Van Graffs."

Arcade walked in. "Good morning everyone," he said as he got some mutfruit out of the fridge. "Morning, Arcade," Mark said, "Did you check up on Amata yet?" "As a matter of fact, I just did. She is all clear to resume normal activity." "That's great news, Arcade. Listen, we're gonna be heading to McCarran on some business in a bit if you want to come along." "Sure," he said, "why not. I could use some fresh air. Count me in." "Alright, we'll leave in about an hour or so, ok?" "Fine by me." Cass groaned. "An hour?" she then lowered her head on the table. Mark chuckled silently as he got up and left the room.

Mark opened the door to his and Amata's room, and as he walked in, he saw that Amata had put on his old armor and was looking out the window. She turned around, and as she did, Mark became awestruck. The way the sun reflected off her hair, the glow that surrounded her, the way she looked in that armor, she seemed almost angelic. "Mark, why are you staring at me?" "It's just…you look so beautiful. I still sometimes think that I don't deserve someone as great as you." She walked over to him, put her arms around his neck, and they kissed. "Trust me," she said, "you definitely deserve me. Did Arcade tell you the good news?" "He did." "So where are we going today?" "What makes you think we're going somewhere?" Mark asked. "Mark, you're never _not_ going somewhere these days, so stop being coy and spill it." Mark raised his hands in defeat.

"You got me. First we're gonna stop by the Silver Rush so I can get an idea of the layout before we plan any type of assault. Then we gotta stop by McCarran so I can talk to the CO there about what I found. Then Veronica and I are gonna head to the bunker where the Brotherhood is based out here so I can talk to their Elder. Oh, and about that, apparently their bunker has some kind of radio interference setup, so you won't be able to track or talk to me while I'm down there." "Can I go with you to meet the Brotherhood?"

"Nah, that's probably not a good idea, babe. If we were still in DC, then I would have no problem with that, but I'm assuming that this chapter is still wary of outsiders, so the less people that go in, the better." "So what am I supposed to do while you're gone?" "Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something. Tell you what. We'll go on that date tonight like I promised. You come back, get all dressed up, and when I get back, I can change and then we can go." "Would you, ah, would you mind if I picked out your clothes for you? There was some stuff downstairs that I thik you'd look good in." "Sure, babe. You've always had great taste."

A little over an hour later, everyone had geared up and they were walking through Freeside. Mark was explaining to everyone what the plan was when they heard a large explosion. Everyone readied their weapons, looking for an attacker. "What tha fuck was that?" Cass asked trying to figure out where it came from. "There," Boone said, pointing to the northwest. They could see people running in that direction, so they did as well. "Come on," Mark said, "let's go see what happened." They started running and didn't stop until they reached the side street where the Silver Rush and the Atomic Wrangler were located. A crowd started to gather, and everyone was facing the Silver Rush. After they made their way through the crowd, they stopped in front of the Silver Rush. One of the doors had been blown off, and the other one looked like it was barely hanging on. A few feet away, Mark saw a body on the ground, wearing the same armor as the man they saw at Cass' caravan site. He bent down to examine it. It looked like his throat had been cut, and judging by how clean the cut was, it looked like someone knew what they were doing.

The crowd had started to grow, and some Kings were trying to keep it under control. Mark put down his bag and readied his assault rifle. Mark turned to the others, and his voice became very authoritative. "Alright, I'm going in to see what happened. Boone, you're with me. ED-E, I need you up in the air, check the area for anyone who looks like they may have done this. Cass, Veronica, help the Kings keep the crowd under control. Arcade, I have medical supplies in my bag. See if anyone out here was wounded. Amata, guard the door. No one else gets in. Questions?" There were none. "Alright, people, let's move."

Mark and Boone walked into the building, ready for anything. The inside of the building was a mess. There was a sunk-in area that was partially surrounded by a cage, although a large hole had been blown in a part of the cage. Mark saw blood spatter on the ground and the walls, but there were no bodies, so whatever explosives were used had disintegrated the bodies. There were tables flipped over, and Mark saw some plasma grenades and pistols around the outside of the room that weren't destroyed. They went through a door that led to a back area. There were a couple of large metallic crates in the room, along with a terminal on a desk and a safe near the desk. There was a set of stairs leading upward, and Mark motioned to Boone that they should go up. They checked the corners as they went up the stairs. They searched a few rooms with mattresses in them, but there was no one else in there. "Clear!" Mark called out. "Clear!" Boone responded.

They went back downstairs. "Amata, we're clear. Let Cass know that we're the only ones alive in here." "Copy that, Mark," came the response over his pip-boy. Mark took his helmet off and put that and his assault rifle on the desk. "Boone, check what's in those cases. I'm gonna see what's on here." Boone nodded. Mark sat down at the desk. There were a few entries, but nothing that would seem incriminating. There was also a remote link to the safe. Mark clicked on it and the safe popped open. They heard a gunshot outside. "Amata, what's going on?" "We're fine," Amata said, "Cass just fired a celebratory shot in the air." "Ok, thanks babe." "Mark, you might want to check this out," Boone said, looking through the cases. Mark looked in the cases and saw a plethora of laser and plasma pistols and rifles, along with ammunition. In one of the cases was a rather large weapon. Mark took it out and examined it. It was meant to be held similar to a minigun, but there was no minigun barrel. Instead, there was a long pole with three prongs surrounding it and meeting at the end.

"What is that?" Boone asked. "I have no idea, but there's only one way to find out." Mark aimed at the far wall and fired. Three concentrated bursts of plasma hit the wall in rapid succession. There was now a hole in the wall. "Huh," Mark said, "so that's what it does," a look of mild surprise on his face. "Mark," Amata said over his pip-boy, "I know you said no one else was supposed to come in, but the King's here." "That's fine," Mark said, "send him in." "I already did," Amata said. The King came into the back. "Gentlemen," the King said, "any idea what happened here?" "No idea," Mark said, "but there's no one alive in here, and we just found a whole mess of weapons."

"Have mercy," the King said as he looked at the weapons. "What do you think we should do with all of these?" the King asked. "Well," Mark said, "there are two crates, so I'm thinking that we split it. The Kings get one case, and me and my friends get one case. But I'm keeping this," Mark said, referencing the weapon in his hands. "Fine by me," the King said as he picked up and examined a plasma rifle. "King," Mark said, "we've got other places to be. Think your guys can keep this place locked down until we come back?" "Not a problem. Crowd's mostly gone outside, so we should be good." Mark leaned down and opened the safe. There were some documents, caps, NCR bills, and Legion coins. Mark took the papers and put them in his bag. "Thanks again, King," Mark said as they shook hands, "I'll stop by your HQ tomorrow and we can talk business." "Sounds good." Mark put his helmet back on, grabbed his rifle, and he and Boone left the room.

About an hour later, they found themselves at Camp McCarran, which was a pre-war airport, now serving as an NCR base. After Boone talked to the guard at the gate, they walked in. What was once a parking lot was now set as a training area, and there were also some tents for sleeping. The group got some stares as they passed by, but they weren't approached by anyone. Boone led them into the main terminal building. There was a sandbag wall with two troopers standing behind it immediately in front of them as they entered. "Alright, Boone, where is Colonel Hsu's office?" "Over there," he said, pointing to an open door about fifty feet to their left. There were two NCR troopers wearing power armor with NCR insignia on it, each holding a minigun, guarding the door. When Veronica saw the power armor, she clenched her fists and scowled. Mark went towards the office, but Boone stopped him. "Let me talk to them first."

Mark nodded and stepped back. Boone talked to one of the men, and Mark thought he heard Boone say the word, "courier." The man disappeared into the office for a few moments and then came back out. He spoke to Boone, and Boone came back to them. "Ok," Boone said, "He'll meet with you, but only you," he said to Mark, "the rest of us will have to wait here." Mark nodded and headed into Colonel Hsu's office. His office was a desk with a terminal on it, a few chairs and a filing cabinet. Mark put his assault rifle and bag on the ground. The man who Mark assumed was Colonel Hsu came out from behind his desk. He was a man of Asian descent, wearing trooper armor and a beret.

"Are you the Courier?" he asked. Mark took off his helmet. "I am, but my real name is Mark Franklin, Colonel." They shook hands, and Hsu motioned for him to sit. "Ok," Hsu said, "so why are you here?" "Well, my friend, former 1st Recon sniper Craig Boone said that you can be trusted, and I have some information that the NCR would be very interested in." Hsu looked intrigued. "Ok, I'm listening." Mark took the papers out of his bag and put them on Hsu's desk. Hsu looked over a few, and then leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temple. "Are you okay, Colonel?" Mark asked.

"Just what I needed. More problems," Hsu said. "The fiends keep pressing us from Vault 3, harassing our troops here, we've got the Legion breathing down our necks from across the river, and now I've got all of this," he said, referencing the papers. "You seem…awfully calm about all of this, Colonel." He chuckled. "Calm's what you have to be when people look to you, and it's all you can be when things are out of your hands." "Don't I know it," Mark said. Hsu looked back at the papers. "Everything's gone to hell around here," Hsu said. There was silence for a few moments. "Colonel," Mark said, "I know you'll have to get these back to the NCR, but I have an idea on how we can use this information right here in the Mojave." "Go on," Hsu said. "Well, there was an explosion at the Silver Rush in Freeside, so all of the Van Graffs here are dead, but Boone tells me that they're based in the NCR, so that'll be up to you guys to deal with them. As for Alice McLafferty and the Crimson Caravan, however…"

After Mark explained to Hsu what he wanted to do, Hsu contemplated it. "It could work," Hsu said, rubbing his chin. "It might take a few days to get approval from the President, but I think it could work." "Good," Mark said, "I'll leave a few pieces of evidence here as a show of good faith, but I'm taking the rest just in case. I don't need all of this evidence just "disappearing." Mark took most of the papers and put them away. "Send a messenger to the Lucky 38 when you get approval. I'll be around." They shook hands, and Mark left the office.

Cass wasn't exactly thrilled that they had to wait for approval, but with the Van Graffs dead, she was willing to wait a bit longer. They walked out of the terminal, and Boone was approached by an African-American man sporting a full black beard. "Craig Boone, as I live and breathe," the man said. "Major Dhatri," Boone said as they shook hands. "It's been awhile, Craig. Don't suppose you're here to re-enlist? We could use you." "No, sir," Boone said, "Those days are behind me." Dhatri looked at the group. "Friends of yours?" Dhatri asked. "Yeah. This guy's the Courier. Guessing you've heard of him," Boone said, motioning to Mark.

"I certainly have," Dhatri said. He shook Mark's hand. "Pleased to meet you. I've heard of your work. Is it true what they say happened with Oliver at the Embassy?" Mark, who had yet to put his helmet back on, smirked. "Probably," he said. Dhatri shook his head in disbelief. "I didn't think anyone had the balls to do that. How old are you, son?" "Nineteen, sir." "Damn. I wish all my troops had your courage." He turned back to Boone. "If you're not here to re-enlist, perhaps you'd be interested in helping me out with a problem." "Problem?" Boone asked. "It's no secret that the fiends are harassing our troops in the area. I'm offering a bounty on the heads of their leaders. What do you say?"

Boone turned to look at the rest of the group. "You guys up for some bounty hunting?" "Well," Mark said, "Veronica and I have that…errand we need to take care of, but the rest of you can if you want." "I'm in," Cass said, "ah really need ta kill somethin'." Amata looked at Mark. "Mark, I'm gonna help them." "Then go and help. I know you've been cooped up in the 38. Just don't forget our plans tonight, ok?" "Don't worry," she said as they kissed, "I won't." "ED-E," Mark said, looking at the robot, "keep her safe, okay?" ED-E beeped and bobbed up and down, apparently saying yes. "Ready, Veronica?" Veronica took a deep breath. "Yeah. Let's go."

(2 hours later)

They were about a half-hour away from where Veronica said the Brotherhood was located, a place called Hidden Valley. It wasn't on the map on Mark's pip-boy, which was probably why it was called "Hidden." Amata had just sent him a message saying that they had taken out two of the three fiend leaders that Dhatri wanted killed. "Why do you always carry that bag?" Veronica asked, "Doesn't it throw off your balance?" "I don't know, why do you wear that hood when it's as hot as hell out here?" Veronica gripped her hood. "I'm just kidding," Mark said, "and to answer your question, I carry it because I usually need more supplies than what I can strap on my belt. I've adjusted to shooting with it, so it's not a problem. I only carry what I think I'm gonna need, not everything I own."

They walked for a few more minutes in silence. "Can I ask you a question?" Veronica asked. "You just did," Mark said, "but go ahead." "You and Amata, um, why do you think you guys go so well together?" "Why do you ask?" "It's just…I keep thinking that there was something that I could've said or done differently to keep Christine from leaving. I keep thinking that it's my fault she left. If-or when I see her again, I don't want to make the same mistake." "First of all, Veronica, you _will_ see her again. Secondly, if the Brotherhood forced her out, I doubt anything you could've said or done would've made a difference. It's not your fault, so don't blame yourself. Look, there are a multitude of reasons Amata and I go so well together, but a big one is because we don't try to change each other. I know who she is, and she knows who I am. Plus, the sex is pretty good." "I can imagine," Veronica said, smiling halfheartedly.

"Tell me about Christine. What was she like?" Veronica thought for a moment. "She…personified perfection. She was beautiful. Her smile, her body, it was all perfect. Sometimes, we would have these late-night sparring sessions, and when we were done, and we were both hot and sweaty, sometimes we would find a secluded area and just…well, I'll leave that to your imagination." "She sounds like a great person. I hope to meet her one day," Mark said. "Yeah, I think you two would get along." Mark looked at her. "Veronica, we'll find her. In fact, I may be able to get your Elder to tell me where she is." Veronica looked extremely confused. "How exactly do you plan to do that?" "Oh," Mark said, "let's just say I may have an ace up my sleeve." Veronica didn't know how to respond to that, so they continued to walk. A few minutes later, Mark noticed some figures about a hundred yards away that were heading towards them, and it was very unlikely that they would be friendly. "Veronica," Mark said, "we've got company."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**


	37. Chapter 37: Hunting and Hoping

"Veronica, we've got company." "What, who?" "Legion." Even at a hundred yards, those outfits were unmistakable. The four Legion soldiers approaching them raised their weapons as they started firing. Mark grabbed Veronica and dragged her into a nearby ditch. "Why are legion attacking us? Didn't you get away clean from the Fort?" Veronica asked. "Not now," Mark said as he reached into his bag. "Do you have a weapon besides your power fist?" Mark looked up, and saw that she had a submachine gun in her left hand. "Where did that come- you know what, never mind." Mark peeked over the edge of the ditch. His best guess now put the Legion soldiers at sixty yards.

Veronica started firing blindly over the edge of the ditch. Mark put down his assault rifle and pulled another weapon out of his bag. Veronica continued to fire. "Is that a gauss rifle?" she asked incredulously. "Yep." Mark didn't have time to properly line up a shot, so he looked over quick and fired. He got one of the soldiers with a headshot. The remaining soldiers did not waver and continued to advance. Veronica was able to get one of the soldiers in the knee, and Mark was able to fire a projectile through his neck. "Two down, two to go," Mark said. Mark took another look, and got an idea. He quickly reached into his bag. "Give me your wrist," Mark said. "What? Why?" Veronica asked. "Just trust me."

The Legion soldiers noticed that the return fire had stopped, so they approached the ditch carefully. "Reveal yourself, profligates. The mighty Caesar has marked you for death, Courier, and that woman will make an excellent slave. Face your fates with dignity." There was no response. They came upon the ditch and aimed their weapons. All they saw was Mark's assault rifle, his bag, and Veronica's submachine gun. "Where are you, profligates? You will reveal yourselves this instant." "You got it," came Mark's voice, seemingly out of nowhere. The soldiers looked around, when from behind them, Mark and Veronica appeared out of thin air. The soldiers attempted to fire, but Mark and Veronica were quicker. Veronica smashed one of them in the gut with her power fist, causing him to drop his weapon and fly into the ditch. Simultaneously, Mark aimed his gauss rifle at the other soldier's head and fired point blank. Blood spattered on his armor as the soldier dropped his weapon and fell dead to the ground.

They went into the ditch, and saw that the soldier that Veronica punched was alive, but just barely. He was holding his stomach and was coughing up blood. He smiled evilly at the both of them. "Do not think you have won, Courier. Caesar's mighty army will soon rule this land, and there will be nowhere for you to hide. More will be coming for you. Cut off one head and two more will grow in its place." "So," Mark said, making sure his pistol was loaded, "does that mean that there will be eight of you next time? Caesar can send all of the soldiers he wants, but it won't make one damn difference. They will all die, and Caesar will burn in hell. Say hi to him for me when he gets there." Mark fired one round into the soldiers head. Veronica looked at the carnage as she put her hands on her knees and caught her breath.

"So," she said, "a gauss rifle, huh?" "Yep, or as I like to call it, emergency weapon number two. I modified it to hold more ammo at once." "Where'd you find that?" "Scavenging," Mark said quickly. This was actually another weapon he had gotten from the Anchorage Simulation, but Veronica didn't need to know about that. "That's your story? You found a gauss rifle just scavenging?" "That's my story and I'm sticking to it. That was one hell of a punch, by the way. Remind me to never get on your bad side." "You got it." They went around to each of the bodies and collected the spoils of war. In total, they collected an assault carbine, a couple of 12.7 mm submachine guns, a brush gun, ammunition for the guns, some plasma and frag grenades, and some anti-venom.

"So, I'm guessing that you didn't exactly get away clean from the Fort." "Not exactly," Mark said as they loaded everything into his bag, "they may have seen my face. Honestly, I'm not worried. This is hardly the first time that a hit squad has tried to kill me." "It isn't?" "Nope, and if old baldie is sending them after me, then that means he thinks that I'm a threat. And you know what? He's damn right that I'm a threat. Come on, let's go."

(Same time, fiend territory)

They were scouting out the location of the last fiend leader that Major Dhatri wanted killed. They had already killed the fiend leaders called Violetta and Driver Nephi. As proof of their kills, Major Dhatri wanted their heads. Amata felt that it was a bit gruesome, so Boone chopped off the heads and Cass volunteered to carry them in a makeshift sack. Violetta did not have any other fiends with her, only a pack of about six or seven dogs. Boone was able to get a clean shot through her heart with his rifle. The noise had attracted the dogs to their position, but with their combined firepower, they were able to put them down easily.

Driver Nephi was the second fiend leader they had taken out. He got his name because of the golf driver that he carried around. According to Major Dhatri, 1st Recon had been sent to kill him, but he had foiled their attempts because he used other fiends as human shields, and that he was deceptively fast, killing armed NCR soldiers before they knew what happened. So they decided to send ED-E in first as a distraction. While Nephi tried to hit ED-E and the other fiends tried to shoot him, the rest of the group surrounded the fiends and were able to kill all of them. Now they were deciding on the best course of action for the third fiend, who went by the name of Cook-Cook. He was called that because he had a penchant for using a flamer, and oddly enough, he was apparently a good cook. How they knew that, Amata had no idea, and didn't ask.

Cook-Cook and the rest of his compatriots were in a hollowed-out, one-story building. Amata and the rest of them were lying prone on a hill about one hundred-fifty yards away. ED-E couldn't lie down, so he floated down as low as he could. "So," Amata asked Boone, "how do you wanna play this?" Boone stared at the building. "You know," he said, "there was a rumor going around that he has a soft spot for a brahmin that he named, 'Queenie.'" "Queenie?" Arcade said, a bit perplexed. "I don't know. Call it a hunch, but if that brahmin were to suddenly die, I don't think he would be particularly happy about it." "So yer plan is ta kill a brahmin in tha hopes that he goes bat-shit crazy and they kill each other?" Cass asked. "They're all hopped up on jet and psycho. Half the time they're shooting at things that are only in their heads."

Amata took a pair of binoculars out of a brown satchel bag that she had found in one of the stores in the Lucky 38. She liked it because it was smaller and less cumbersome than her duffel bag. "Ok," she said, analyzing the area, "I see two brahmin, and there doesn't seem to be any way to differentiate from the two." "So we kill them both," Boone said. He looked at Amata. "How good of a long-distance shot are you with your rifle?" "I like to think that I can hold my own." "Alright. There's no wind, so this should be an easy shot." They picked up their respective rifles and stared down their scopes. "I got the one on the left, you got the one on the right." "Copy that," Amata said, taking a deep breath. "On three. One. Two. Three." Amata exhaled and fired, as did Boone. Both brahmin had fallen over. Amata picked up her binoculars. "Okay, they're scrambling, but it doesn't look like they've noticed us."

They waited for a minute, and then they heard a blood-curdling scream. "I think Cook-Cook noticed," Amata said. They heard gunshots coming from inside the building, and Amata saw someone using a flamer. Once everything died down, Amata scanned the area. "I don't see any movement. Let's go check it out." They got up. "Alright everyone," Boone said, "listen up. We're in fiend territory. Keep on your toes. You see any movement, you call it out. We go in, we get the head, and we get out. Above all else, everyone stay together." "You guys are sure there's no one else in there?" Arcade asked nervously. "C'mon, Gannon," Cass said, "what're ya, chicken?" "No," he said, although the nervousness in his voice betrayed him, "it just-it's…Amata! Yes, Amata, that's it. She is pregnant, after all, and this is a dangerous area." "Arcade," Amata said, patting him on the back, "I appreciate the worry, but I'll be fine. And if we hadn't already killed a bunch of fiends, I may have actually believed you."

"Enough talking," Boone commanded, "let's get moving". They approached the building very carefully. They checked out the interior of the building. They saw the bodies of the fiends lying about, some burned, all of them shot and bloody. Boone found Cook-Cook. "Finally got you, you disgusting bastard. You won't be-" He was interrupted by gunfire. "EVERYONE GET DOWN!" Boone yelled. "Fiends, twelve o'clock!" Amata called out. Boone carefully looked through a window. He saw three fiends. He got one with a headshot, and the other two scrambled to get behind a pile of rubble. "Anyone have a clear shot?" Boone called out. "No," Arcade said. "Nope," was Cass' response. "I think I can circle around," Amata said, "ED-E, can you give me a distraction?" ED-E beeped and headed off over the pile. Amata took off. "Amata, no, stay-" Boone's words fell on deaf ears as she got up and move away from him. Using another building as cover, she saw the fiends trying to shoot ED-E, who was moving too fast for them. Amata took two quick shots in succession, and both fiends fell.

ED-E flew over to her. She smiled and patted him on the chassis. "Thank you, ED-E." ED-E beeped happily in response. Amata saw the other three approaching her. "Hey guys, I got-" "What part of 'stay together' did you not understand?" Boone said, scowling. "Running off like that, that's what gets people killed." "Look, Boone" Amata said, feeling like her father was chastising her, "I thought-" "No, you didn't think. That's the problem. What if there were other fiends behind you? I said stay together for a reason." He pursed his lips. "You know what, forget it. Let's just get the damn head and get out of here."

(15 minutes later, Hidden Valley)

Mark and Veronica stood in front of the door that Veronica said led to the Brotherhood's base of operations. They were in a large area surrounded by a chain-link fence with a few other bunkers in the area. There was graffiti on the concrete walls surrounding the door, such as 'Ban the Bomb,' and 'Give peace a chance.' "It's an interesting place for them to set up, I'll give them that," Mark said. "That's kinda the point. Who'd think to look here for a military organization?" "Makes sense, I guess. Ready to go in?" Veronica looked a bit uneasy. "Umm," she said, "before we go in, there's something else you need to know. We're kinda under a lockdown right now, and we have been for a little while now."

"Ok, how long? Couple months?" Mark asked. "Not exactly. It's been more like five years." "Sorry," Mark said, "could you say that again, because it sounded like you said five years." "Yeah, I did. There are some exceptions, such as myself, but the majority of everyone down there hasn't left the bunker, and tensions are running extremely high right now. Please just do me a favor, and don't make things a repeat of what happened with General Oliver." "Veronica, I have no intention of doing that, partly because I'm pretty sure they would have no qualms about shooting me, and I'm guessing they have more than pistols."

Veronica closed her eyes took a deep breath, and smiled. For some reason, Mark was reminded of something the Forecaster said at the 188 when he first met Veronica: "... _with regret comes a girl, smiling sad, brown robe, named Veronica, half here, half there. Wraps her heart up like a pack…"_ Did that mean that Veronica's been wearing a mask, and all of this smiling was just a façade? Mark thought back. Had he ever seen Veronica truly smile? "Mark, you with me?" Veronica said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. The door was open. "Oh, yeah, I'm coming."

They walked down a set of stairs into a chamber that was dimly lit, with some crates, a couple of metal barricades, and a door on the other side. Mark looked around. "Uh, not exactly what I was expecting," he said. "Don't be stupid," Veronica said "this is just the antechamber. Oh, and, um, could you do me a favor and take your helmet off and put your rifle away? It might send the wrong message if it looks like you're here to assault the place." "As you wish." Mark took off his helmet and put that and his assault rifle in his bag. Veronica approached an intercom that was next to the door, and pressed a button.

"Yeah, I'd like a large atomic shake and a double brahmin burger. And easy on the agave sauce this time." Mark burst out laughing. A man answered. "We gave you a password for a reason, Veronica. It's for your safety." "I know where you live, Ramos. Open up." Ramos sighed. "For Pete's sake. Opening up. Welcome back, Veronica." The door slid upwards, revealing a staircase. "Is this what you normally do when you come back?" Mark asked. "More or less," Veronica said, "shall we?" Mark gestured to the stairs. "After you. This is your house." They descended a long staircase, and came to a small room with doors on either side of them and a Brotherhood flag on the wall opposite them. "How ya doing, Ramos?" A man of Hispanic descent, with messy black hair and wearing T-51b power armor, and a gauss rifle strapped to his back, approached Veronica. "Hey yourself, kiddo," Ramos said, smiling.

The smile turned to a look of concern when he turned to Mark. "Who's your friend, Veronica?" "Ramos, this is my friend Mark Franklin. Mark, this is Paladin Jason Ramos, our head of security." Mark extended his right hand for Ramos to shake but it never came. Mark lowered it. "I don't know why you're here, outsider, but before you proceed, I'm going to have to ask you to disarm." "I'm not going to be attacked while I'm down here, am I?" Mark said, crossing his arms. "No," Ramos said, "no one will attack you unless provoked. Stay out of trouble, and you'll be fine." Mark looked at Veronica, who nodded. "Alright," Mark said. He took off his 10 mm pistol, 9 mm pistol, the various grenades he had on his belt, and the trench knife strapped to his leg, and put everything in his bag.

He put the bag at Ramos' feet. "Here you go. Just so we're clear, I know what's in there, and how much of everything is in there, and I expect it to all be there when I get back." "No one will touch your belongings," Ramos said. "Another thing. Since you're here with Veronica, I'm inclined to cut you some slack. But while you are here, you are her responsibility." "Ramos," Veronica said, "he's not gonna do anything. I wouldn't have brought him down here if I thought he was." "Ramos, I'm not here to cause trouble, but if I am attacked, I will defend myself," Mark said. Ramos nodded. "Understood." Veronica put her hand on Mark's arm. "Come on Mark, let's go," she said. "Nice to meet you, Ramos," Mark said as they descended another staircase.

Veronica wasn't kidding when she said tensions were running high. Perhaps it was the tension, or the close quarters, but Mark was strongly reminded of when he returned to the Vault, although the vault didn't have turrets sitting around every corner. If it did, there would have been an entirely different set of problems for him to deal with. As they walked through the base, Veronica seemingly said hi to everyone, and knew everyone by name. Mark wasn't really surprised. In the vault, he knew basically everyone's names, which tends to happen when you're in close quarters for an extended period of time. Most of the people either said hi to Veronica and ignored Mark, or ignored both of them altogether.

"Veronica!" a seemingly cheery voice called out from behind them. Veronica clenched her fists. She knew who it was without turning around. Mark and Veronica both turned around. "Watkins!" Veronica said, an extremely forced smile on her face. Watkins was a young woman with bright yellow hair and hazel eyes, wearing recon armor. "Still hiding that hair of yours under that hood, Veronica?" Watkins said. "Watkins, you're wearing so much makeup, I can barely notice that lazy eye of yours anymore," Veronica retorted. Mark watched with interest, but kept his mouth shut and his face neutral. He learned a long time ago that this was how women acted when they despised each other. "So why are you back, Veronica? Gonna try to talk to the Elder _again?"_

She looked at Mark. "Who are you?" Watkins asked. Mark said nothing. "What, are you slow? Do…you…understand…what…I'm…saying?" She said slow and mockingly, waving her arms for added effect. "Do…you…speak…English?" "Watkins," Veronica said "cut it-" Mark raised his hand to stop her. "I speak English just fine," Mark said. "What I don't speak is bitch, but apparently you speak that fluently." Her face dropped, and Veronica snickered. "What-I-you-did-" Watkins stammered. "Now who doesn't understand English, Watkins," Veronica said. She tapped Mark on the shoulder. "Come on Mark, let's go." As they walked away, Veronica looked over her shoulder at Watkins, who was still fuming. "You might wanna go see Schuler and get some ointment for that burn, Watkins," Veronica said, grinning. She then turned to Mark and gave him a high five.

After getting to a landing on what Mark guessed was the fourth floor, Veronica led him through a door to their right, and through a small, curved hallway. They came into a large, circular room. Inside the room was a raised desk in the center with a terminal on it, and on the wall at the back of the room was a physical representation of the Brotherhood symbol made out of metal. There were two knights guarding the door, and sitting at the desk was a grey-haired Caucasian man who looked to be around fifty years old, wearing an intricately designed blue robe. He smiled when he saw Veronica. "Ah, Veronica, how goes your mission?" "We'll see in a second," she said under her breath. She walked up the stairs to the desk. She crossed her arms and looked him in the eye.

"We need to talk," she said matter-of-factly. He got an exasperated look on his face. "Veronica, please tell me this isn't about-" "Yes it is, goddammit, and this time, you're gonna listen! But not to me. I've tried again and again to convince you, and it has gotten us nowhere. I brought a friend with me. He's not from around here. He's from DC, and he worked with the Brotherhood out there. I think an outsider's perspective is what we've sorely been lacking." She walked down the steps and faced Mark. "Go ahead. See if you can talk some sense into him."

Mark approached the desk slowly. "Elder, my name is Mark Franklin," Mark said as he stuck out his hand. "Elder Nolan McNamara," McNamara said as they shook hands. "Mr. Franklin, excuse me for being blunt, but I find it hard to believe Veronica just happened to meet someone who worked with the Brotherhood, much less the DC chapter." Mark chuckled. "It's okay, Elder. If I was in your position, I'd find it hard to believe myself. Good thing I brought evidence." Mark took a metal chain with two thin, grey, oval-shaped items attached off of his neck, and put them on McNamara's desk. "I'm sure you recognize them as Brotherhood holotags." The tags themselves didn't have anything printed on them; they were more like data storage devices, and you needed a special device to read them, which the Elder also had on his desk.

The Elder picked them up and hooked one of the tags up to the device. While he read, Veronica dragged him back down to the ground level. "I thought you said you weren't Brotherhood," she whispered, a bit panicked. "Technically, I'm not. It's more of an honorary thing, but they insisted I take them, just in case." The both of them looked at Elder McNamara, who had an indecipherable look on his face. "Knights, Scribe Santangelo," he said, "please leave the room and shut the door. I wish to speak with Mr. Franklin alone." As if they had rehearsed it, the two knights and Veronica all said, "but Elder…" "It was **not** a suggestion. Please leave and shut the door behind you." Veronica looked at Mark nervously. "Alright, Mark, I'll be waiting outside." "Don't worry, Veronica," Mark said, I'll be fine." Veronica and the two knights left the room, and Mark looked back at McNamara.

"Yes, Mr. Franklin, these are Brotherhood holotags. They have all of your physical identifiers in case you should die in the field. It also lists you as an honorary Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel, as well as an honorary member of the Lyons Pride." "The Pride, I know." Mark said. "They're the Brotherhood's elite forces. Sentinel Sarah Lyons is a hell of a leader, and a close personal friend to boot." "Yes," McNamara said, "she was here, and I know about the Pride. What I'm more interested in is this addendum. I'm sure you already know what it says. It states: " _While the rank of Paladin listed in the Codex is honorary, Mr. Franklin is to be give full access to the Citadel and all of its facilities. Furthermore, as requested by Sentinel Sarah Lyons, and as ordered by Elder Owyn Lyons, Mr. Franklin is to be given full access to all documented information, including those considered to be restricted or classified. He is permitted to come and go as he pleases, and should he choose to accompany any Brotherhood personnel on missions, he is considered to be in a command position. Mr. Franklin has proven himself to be an invaluable asset to the Brotherhood. He is proof that we are on the right path, that the best and brightest are not always born into our ranks."_

McNamara looked at Mark. "Mr. Franklin, quite honestly, I have never seen anything like this. Are you aware that while the DC chapter was here, Sentinel Lyons spoke of a man who she met, who was fresh out of a vault, and while she did not think much of him at first, and though their first meeting was short, he proved himself to be quite the capable fighter. The next time she saw him, he had just led a team of scientists to safety, fighting single-handedly through feral ghouls and a decent number of Enclave troopers. He had done this after watching his own father die, and he was a mess. She also said he was ready to sacrifice himself for the good of the wasteland. He then assisted the Brotherhood with destroying the Enclave and ridding the area of super mutants and other threats. I did not believe it, but I now believe that man, who Sentinel Lyons claimed did the impossible on a near-daily basis, is standing before me. Am I correct?" "You are correct, Elder." "She spoke very highly of you, Mr. Franklin. She said that although you did not officially join, your loyalty to the Brotherhood and Elder Lyons never wavered."

"Elder, with all due respect, I am not here to talk about the past. I am here because Veronica thinks I can get through to you." "Mr. Franklin, if you worked with the Brotherhood, then you know of the Codex, and that it forbids outsiders from joining our ranks. Elder Lyons may have strayed, but here we remain true to our roots." "Yes," Mark said, "I know of the Codex, who wrote it, and why they wrote it." Mark paused for a moment. "Elder, are you aware of the vaults that were built prior to the Great War?" "I am, yes." "Then you know that while their stated purpose was to save humanity, their real purpose was to run sometimes inhumane experiments on certain segments of the population. Elder, I am from Vault 101. Nice place, on the surface. The experiment attached to my vault was bad, but there were others in the area that were really fucked up."

"There was Vault 92, whose stated purpose was to preserve musical talent. Its true purpose was to use white noise to plant subliminal messages in the residents' minds to create super soldiers. Nearly everyone in that vault went insane. Then there was Vault 87, where they fucked with FEV, which is where all of the super mutants came from." "You know about the FEV?" McNamara asked. "Yes, I do, although the Brotherhood and I blew up that part of the vault, so we were finally able to exterminate the super mutants. Now, back to Vault 101. The experiment was when the vault was sealed, it was never supposed to open again. So it was only a matter of time when, not if, it would fail. Now, the vault had actually been opened multiple times. One of the times was when my dad brought me into the vault as an infant. My classmates and I, we were all told that we the vault had never been opened, that we were all born in the vault, and that the wastes were uninhabitable. Then, about five, six months or so ago, my dad escaped, and I was forced out by the insane Overseer."

"While I was gone, there was a rebellion. All of the kids I grew up found out we had been lied to, and they wanted to see the outside world for themselves. My wife was their leader. She went up against the Overseer, who just happened to be her father. Eventually, I came back and I forced him to see the light, that the Vault was doomed if things didn't change. You seem like a smart man, Elder. I'm sure you can see the parallels between what happened there and what's happening here." McNamara sighed. "I know. There's just nothing I can do about it." "Sir, there is something you can do. You can change." "No, I can't. There are people aiming to replace me because of the lockdown, and if I try to change the Codex unilaterally, that'll give them the ammunition they need."

Mark rubbed his temple. "Sir, when Elder Lyons arrived in DC, he saw the populace being overrun and terrorized by super mutants, raiders, and slavers. He followed his conscience, and decided that protecting the people was a more worthy cause than simply collecting technology, and he was ostracized for it. He accepted outsiders, and he was ostracized for it. But he never wavered in his convictions. When the people in DC saw that power armor, they saw heroes. They saw safety. They saw their best chance for peace. The people out here, they could use that protection in the worst way. We both see the writing on the wall. If you refuse to change, everything down here is going to be lost to time, and that's a damn shame. She hasn't said it, but Veronica knows where all of this is heading, and it's killing her to watch her family just waste away. It was right there in my holotags. The best and brightest are not always born into your ranks."

McNamara looked down at his desk, then back at Mark. "Mr. Franklin, you are a good man, and it warms my heart to know that Veronica has a friend like you looking out for her, but I'm sorry. My hands are tied." Mark sighed. "I'm sorry, too, Elder. Before I go, there was one more thing. There was a woman that Veronica was close with. She said her name is Christine." "Scribe Christine Royce, yes." "I need to know where she is." "I assume Veronica told you what happened, so why would you think I would know where she is?" McNamara asked. "Well, my first clue was when you called her a "scribe," and not "former scribe." Besides, I don't think you can afford to be losing people at this point."

McNamara contemplated it. "You are correct. She is elsewhere, but her mission is confidential." Mark held up his holotags. "And yet, I am entitled to view classified information, and if I remember what I was told, the High Elders in Lost Hills still consider Owyn Lyons to be an Elder, so his order still carries weight. Sir, I don't want to know the mission, just her location. If you won't do it for me, then do it for Veronica. She deserves to be happy, and I know we both want what's best for her."

McNamara sighed and searched through his terminal. "Scribe Royce is currently tracking a target. She was supposed to check in a week ago, but did not. Her whereabouts are currently unknown." Mark was silent for a few moments. "Thank you. It was a pleasure to meet you, Elder McNamara." "You as well, Mr. Franklin. I wish things could be different." "So do I, Elder, so do I." Mark walked to the door. Before he opened it, Mark looked over his shoulder and spoke. "Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail." With that, Mark opened the door and left the room.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. The quote in the last paragraph is by Ralph Waldo Emerson. You know, the similarities between Vault 101 and the Mojave Brotherhood never occurred to me until I started writing this story. Anyway, until next time, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**


	38. Chapter 38: Dead to Rights

**Author's Note: Hello everyone. I would just like to say before we get started that I've been playing Far Harbor, and to me, it is one of the creepiest places I've seen in the Fallout universe. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcome.**

Mark walked back through the hallway, and found Veronica pacing around the landing area. When she saw him, she stopped and ran over to him, a hopeful look on her face. "So, how'd it go?" Mark stood there, not knowing what to say. Veronica's face dropped. "He didn't listen, did he?" She threw her arms down in frustration, and started pacing again. "Veronica-" "I don't get it. I was certain he would listen to you. How could he not?" "Veronica-" "Why wouldn't he listen? You are living, breathing proof that-" "Veronica!" Mark practically yelled. She stopped pacing and looked at him. "What?"

"Veronica, it's not that simple. We have things that we need to talk about, but I think that it's best if we talk about them outside of the bunker." Veronica sighed. "Alright," she said, "let's get out of here." They went to head up the stairs, when someone called out, "Not so fast, outsider." Mark and Veronica both turned around. A Caucasian man wearing T51-b power armor and carrying a gauss rifle came out of the doorway on the opposite side of the landing, across from the doorway that led to McNamara's office. He was about Mark's height, and had short brown hair. "I'm sorry, who are you now?" Mark asked, frowning and crossing his arms. "None of your business, outsider. I'd like to have words with you." Veronica stepped between Mark and the man.

"Maxwell," Veronica said, "back off. We're leaving." "Get out of the way, Veronica. You bring an outsider in here, and then he gets a private audience with the Elder? No doubt you brought him here to spout the same idealistic nonsense that you've been trying to convince the Elder of. You would be wise to disassociate yourself from this outsider, and realize that all this talk of change is foolish." "Listen, Maxwell," Veronica said angrily, sounding like she was close to knocking Maxwell out with her power fist, "I choose who my friends are, not you. It's not like he asked to come here. I asked him to come here, and he's more qualified to be here than you may think." "Oh, I doubt that," Maxwell said, "now move out of the way, Veronica. I'm not gonna ask again." "Veronica," Mark said from behind her, "Move. I got this." She looked over her shoulder. "Are you insane?" "Probably. Just move, please."

Veronica reluctantly moved out of the way. Mark took a step towards Maxwell. "So," Mark said, "Maxwell, is it? You're a paladin, right? You must be. Knights usually don't get the T51-b armor and a powerful weapon like a gauss rifle." "How do you know that?" Maxwell asked. "We'll get to that in a second," Mark replied. "Listen, Maxwell, your head of security, Ramos, I believe, he took all of my weapons when I came in, so I am completely unarmed. So if you're gonna shoot me, go ahead. I'll give you a free shot." Mark pounded his chest with his right hand. "But," Mark continued, "If I remember correctly from DC, the Codex states that the penalty for murder of an unarmed person on Brotherhood grounds results in a court-martial, and very likely your execution by firing squad." "What do you mean, from DC?" Maxwell inquired. Mark took his holotags out of his pocket. "Like Veronica said, I'm more qualified to be in here than you may think." "Oh," Maxwell said, realization dawning on his face, "you're with Lyons and his band of traitors, aren't you?" Mark smirked. "Traitors? No. Elder Lyons just had a different idea on how the Brotherhood should operate. So does Veronica, but _heaven forbid_ that someone actually think for themselves, am I right?"

"Watch your tone, outsider, or I will take you up on your offer to shoot you." "No you're won't. Tell me, Maxwell, when was the last time you fired that weapon at something that was actually trying to kill you? When was the last time that you were actually in the wasteland? Veronica tells me that you guys have been under a lockdown for five years, so I'm guessing that it's been about that long. Come to think of it, have you ever actually fired that weapon?" "Mark," Veronica interjected, "maybe we should go." "Stay out of this, Veronica," Maxwell said angrily. He stared daggers at Mark. "You may have those tags, but you are not one of us. If it was up to me, Lyons and all those who follow him would be put to death for their treasonous ways." "Well, Maxwell, I follow him, and I am unarmed, so go ahead. Shoot me. **Pull the trigger**."

"Maxwell!" Mark and Veronica turned around. Elder McNamara had come to see what was going on. "Elder!" Maxwell said as he stood at attention. "Maxwell," McNamara continued, "What are you doing?" "Sir, I was just-" "It was a rhetorical question, Paladin. You have been warned about your anger issues before. You are remanded to your quarters until I speak with Head Paladin Hardin. You are dismissed." Maxwell scowled at Mark, before heading up the stairs. "Veronica, Mr. Franklin, I suggest that the both of you leave as soon as possible," McNamara said as he headed back towards his office. As soon as McNamara disappeared, Veronica smacked Mark on the back of the head. "What the hell is the matter with you?" "Relax. He wasn't gonna shoot me. He didn't even bother to turn the safety off. Come on. We'll talk more outside the bunker."

After collecting his bag and making sure everything was still in it, Mark and Veronica made their way outside. After their eyes readjusted to the light, Mark put his helmet back on. "You told Ramos that you weren't gonna cause any trouble. What happened to that?" Veronica asked. "Hey, I didn't cause any trouble. I was ready to leave. That guy was the one who instigated things, and I told Ramos that I would defend myself. Oh, and before I forget, for the love of god, please don't tell Amata that I dared a paladin to shoot me point blank with a gauss rifle. She may actually kill me herself. Either that, or she'll withhold sex, and both would suck equally for me." "Whatever," Veronica said as they began to walk, "so what happened in McNamara's office?"

"Veronica, I tried to convince him. I really did. I told him that they were on a doomed path, but apparently he already knows that. He just…refuses to do anything about it. Honestly, Veronica, I think you're wasting your time and talents with them. There are people out here who could really benefit from your knowledge. Like the Followers. Talk to Arcade. I'm sure that he could put you in contact with the right people." "I-I don't know. Maybe you're right. If I stay down there, all I can do is help until everything comes to a sudden end. I'm- I'm gonna have to think on it."

"Veronica, you're an adult, and it's your life, your decision to make. I would never force anyone to abandon their family. Whatever you decide, you have my full support. I just think that you should keep your options open." "Thanks, Mark. You know what? I think it's time I told everyone the truth about who I am." "You sure?" "Yeah. They're all good people. It's time." She smiled at Mark, and Mark got the feeling that it was the first true smile that Veronica had ever given him. They walked in silence for a few minutes. "Hey, wait," Veronica said, "were you able to find out anything about Christine?" Mark stopped dead in his tracks. "Yeah, uh, about that-" "You don't sound like you have good news," Veronica said, her face dropping. "It's…it's complicated. Christine didn't actually leave the Brotherhood. McNamara said that she was tracking a target right now, so it's entirely likely that they've been giving her missions that keep her out of the Mojave."

Veronica looked like she was having trouble processing that information. "They…they lied to me? Do they know where she is? Please tell me you asked that." "He said that she was supposed to radio in about a week ago, but she didn't, so they have no idea where she is." "God dammit," Veronica said, her voice rising, "If I decide to go back there, I'm gonna rip McNamara a new one for keeping this from me." She took a couple of deep breaths. "You should probably call Amata, let her know that we're headed back." Mark knew he had forgotten to do something.

He gave Veronica his rifle, and he looked at his pip boy to check where she was. She was in Freeside, heading back towards the Strip. He was about to call her when a message appeared that a new radio station had been found. "Huh," Mark said. "What?" Veronica asked. He flipped over to the radio stations. There was Radio New Vegas, Mojave Music Radio, Black Mountain Radio, and Amata's frequency, which ran continuously in the background. There was one he hadn't seen before. It read, "Sierra Madre Broadcast." "Have you ever seen this before?" Mark asked Veronica as he showed it to her. "Can't say I have. Play it." Mark flipped a dial until it was highlighted, and it began to play, with a woman's voice speaking:

 _Has your life taken a turn? Do troubles beset you? Has fortune left you behind? If so, the Sierra Madre Casino, in all its glory, is inviting you to begin again. Come to a place where wealth, excitement and intrigue await around every corner. Stroll along the winding streets of our beautiful resort, make new friends, or rekindle old flames. Let your eyes take in the luxurious expanse of the open desert under clear star-lit skies. Gaze straight into the sunset from our villa rooftops. Countless diversions await: Gamble in our casino, take in the theater, or stay in one of our exclusive executive suites that will shelter you and cater to your every whim. So if life's worries have weighed you down, if you need an escape from your troubles, or if you just need an opportunity to begin again, join us, let go, and leave the world behind at the Sierra Madre grand opening this October. We'll be waiting._

The message finished playing, and Mark and Veronica looked at each other. Veronica had a perplexed look on her face, as did Mark, although she couldn't tell since he had the helmet on. "That…was interesting," Mark said. "Sierra Madre? A casino opening? That must have been from before the war, so what's it doing broadcasting now?" Veronica pondered. "Can you pinpoint where it's coming from?" Mark asked her. "Probably. Just give me a second." She gave his rifle back to him as he held out his left arm. She fiddled with some dials, and after a minute or so, she stopped and just stared at the pip-boy. "Veronica? What's up? Where's it coming from?"

"It can't be," she said, "it doesn't make any sense." "Veronica, where's it coming from?" "Well, they're broadcasting on a pre-war emergency frequency, and it's coming from an abandoned Brotherhood bunker, but no one outside the Brotherhood would know where that is." "Well," Mark asked, "where is it?" "It's about an hour away from here. Do you think we should check it out?" "Yeah, sure, but I really do need to contact Amata first." Mark pressed a button on the screen. "Amata, you there?" "Hi, honey," she responded, "did you guys finish with that, um, errand?" "Yeah, we're all done. How was fiend hunting?" "Uneventful," she said quickly, "and we picked up the case of weapons from the Silver Rush. Do you really need that giant weapon, whatever it is?"

"Yeah," Cass' voice came over the pip-boy, "are ya sure yer not tryin' ta compensate fer anythin', lover boy?" she said jokingly. "Cass!" Amata said, apparently trying to shush her. "Hey, Cass," Mark said, "Ask Amata. I don't need to compensate for anything." "Mark!" Amata said, and Mark was one hundred percent sure she was blushing fiercely. "What, babe? You know it's true." "Maybe so, but that doesn't mean you need to announce it to the entire world." "Probably not. Who's carrying the case, anyway?" "Arcade and Boone are." "Yeah," came Arcade's voice, "it's not like it's as heavy as hell or anything." "Arcade," Amata said, "whatever happened to chivalry? So, Mark, are you guys on your way back?" "Well, kinda," Mark said, "there's this weird radio signal that I picked up. We're just gonna go check it out, and then we'll be on our way back."

"Mark, given your experience with weird radio signals, do you _really_ think that's a good idea?" Amata said, "Besides, what about our plans?" "Amata don't worry. Veronica said it's coming from a place about an hour away from here. We'll double time it, and we'll be back by 7:30, 8 at the latest. You just make yourself all pretty, and I'll be back before you know it." Amata sighed. "Fine, but you had better make this the most romantic evening of my life." "Oh, that I can guarantee. I'll talk to you later, babe." "Yeah, yeah, just make sure you get back here on time." With that, the transmission cut out. "What was that about you and weird radio signals?" Veronica asked. "Uh, it's nothing worth mentioning. Let's be on our way."

(35 minutes later)

They were able to cut some time off of the trip thanks to walking faster than normal, and by taking a shortcut that Veronica knew about that took them close to Novac. The entrance that Veronica took them to was in a hilly area, and it turned out to be a circular metal drainage grate. Mark looked at it, a bit perplexed. "How did people in power armor fit through there, exactly?" "This isn't the only entrance, but the Brotherhood used this only as an emergency entrance. Now, are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help me get this thing off?" Mark bent over, grabbed it with both of his hands, and along with Veronica, the lifted it up and moved it to the side. Mark could see a dim glow. "After you," Mark said. Veronica smirked. "Maybe Amata was right. Maybe chivalry is dead."

Mark rolled his eyes, although she couldn't see that. "Fine," Mark said, "I'll go first." Veronica stuck her right hand out. "No, no, allow me." Veronica climbed down the ladder that was just inside and came to the landing and looked up. "Come on in, the water's fine," she said jokingly, her voice echoing a bit. "Alright, I'm dropping my bag in first." He tossed his bag down, and then grabbed his rifle and climbed down. He came to the landing, turned around, and looked at the room. On the right half of the room was a staircase leading down. The rest of the room was lit in an eerie yellow light, with debris scattered around. There was also some graffiti on the walls. Mark took off his helmet to get a better look. He put it in his bag, and harnessed his rifle on his back. On their left was "SIERRA MADRE" written on the wall in white paint, and on their right was "I LEFT MY HEART IN THE SIERRA MADRE," with a picture of a heart replacing the word, and the heart had an arrow going through it.

"Well, we're definitely in the right place," Mark mused. Veronica had walked over to the other side of the room, crouching down and looking at something. "Mark, we've got a body over here." Mark came over and looked at it. It was a headless corpse wearing a grey mechanic's jumpsuit. Mark looked around, but didn't see the head. "Well," Mark said, "as interesting as this is, it doesn't really help us. Let's check out the rest of the bunker." They walked down the stairs. There were there the words, "SEERA MADRE," on the overhang above the door. Veronica pressed a button next to the door at the bottom of the staircase, and it screeched upwards. It looked to be made of three inches of solid steel. "Why was this place abandoned, anyway?" Mark asked as they walked through. "Well, it happened about-" She was interrupted by a loud banging from behind them. They both jumped a bit and looked back. The door had closed on them.

Mark looked for a release button, but there wasn't one on this side of the door. They tried lifting it up manually, but it wouldn't budge, and not even Veronica hitting it with her power fist could make a dent in it. "You wouldn't happen to have some C-4 and a detonator in that bag, would you?" she asked, wiping the sweat off her forehead. "Veronica, this bag isn't magic. I can't just wish for something to be in there. Besides, I'm not too crazy about detonating explosives underground. There has to be another way out. You lived here. You must know of other exits." "Well, that hallway is collapsed," she said pointing to a hallway to their right, "so we can't go that way." "Well, we gotta find another way out, or Amata is going to be seriously pissed at me." "You're not gonna be able to call her. This place has the same radio interference as Hidden Valley." "Just dandy," Mark said.

They walked a bit further in. There was a Brotherhood flag on the wall to their right. Mark went down a hallway to their left, and Veronica ventured a bit further in. There was a terminal in the hallway, and at the end was a locked door. There was no switch, so Mark booted up the terminal. All it said was, "TERMINAL LOCKED. PLEASE CONTACT AN ADMINISTRATOR." "Hey, Veronica," Mark called out, "do you think you can override this terminal?" There was no answer. "Veronica?" He heard a thump, and went down the way Veronica had gone. He saw her passed out on the floor in front of a small table with an old-time radio on it. He dropped his bag and fell to his knees. He shook her. "Veronica!" There was no response. He smelled the air. "Oh shit, gas!" He tried to go in his bag to get his helmet, but he started feeling woozy, and lost all of his strength. "Amata…" was all he said before he passed out as well.

(Same time, Lucky 38)

They had stored the case of weapons in a spare room. Arcade said he was going to take a nap, and Cass was off somewhere drinking. Amata, who had taken off her armor and taken a shower, walked into the kitchen wearing khaki shorts and a white t-shirt. She saw Boone sitting at the table, drinking a beer. "Boone," Amata said as she sat down, "we need to talk." "There's nothing to talk about," he said gruffly. "Besides, don't you have a date to get ready for?" He made to get up, but Amata glared at him, causing him to sit back down. "Boone, look, I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you. It was wrong of me to just run off like that." She stopped and waited for a response, but got none. "Boone, I think you getting angry at me was more than just about me just running off. Mark, he…he told me what happened to Carla." Boone stared at her. "What did he tell you?" "That Carla was kidnapped by Legion and that you knew she was dead. When he told me that, I was mortified, and I can only imagine the pain you must have been in. For what it's worth, I'm sorry." "Is that all he told you?" "Uh, yeah, why? Is that not the whole story?" Boone got up. "Ask your husband," was all he said as he left the room.

(Some time later)

Mark felt someone trying to rouse him awake. "Mark, get up," the female voice said. "Not now, Amata, I'm tired," he said groggily. "Oh for the love of…" he heard the voice say quietly, and then he felt someone smack in on his ribs. "Ow, fuck, what the hell?" He said as he sat up. Mark saw Veronica, although she wasn't wearing her robe or power fist, just a grey jumpsuit and brown work boots. The next thing that he noticed was that he was in a place he didn't recognize, and that the sky was a blood red. Veronica helped him up. "Veronica, where the hell are we?" There were white stone buildings with red tiled roofs. Directly in front of them was a dry fountain with a hologram of a woman in a dress on the part that rose in the middle. Beyond that in the distance was a towering building.

There was a closed wrought-iron gate that seemed to lead to the building, with the words "Sierra Madre," also in wrought-iron above the gate. "Looks like we found the Sierra Madre," Veronica said. Mark looked at himself. He was also wearing a grey jumpsuit and brown work boots, in addition to his pip-boy. What he wasn't wearing was any of his armor or weapons, and his bag was nowhere to be found. He felt something around his neck. He reached for it, but Veronica stopped him. "No! Don't touch that!" "Why, what is it?" Mark looked at her. She had something around her neck as well. It was circular black metal, and there was a blinking red light. "I think it's a bomb collar. It's pre-war tech."

Mark took another look around. "Well, this sucks," he said. "I know. We don't even know where the hell we are, the sky is red, and this place just feels creepy as hell," she replied. "Although that is correct, that wasn't what I meant. What I meant was that Amata is definitely going to kill me for missing our date." Veronica wasn't paying attention. She was looking at the fountain, so Mark looked, too. The holographic woman had been replaced by the picture of an old man with messy white hair and a white beard. Veronica looked stunned. "It can't be…" "Veronica, who is-" "Mark, that's Elijah."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time.**


	39. Chapter 39: Finding What Was Lost

**Author's Note: To guest reviewer Fireheadz506, I am glad that you are enjoying the story. It's reviews like that that make me want to continue writing. To all of you, enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcome and appreciated.**

"Elijah?" Mark said. "He's the one who separated you and Christine, right?" "Yeah, but no one's seen him since-" Veronica was interrupted by an old, raspy voice that seemed to emanate from the fountain. "Are you listening? Good. From now on, when I talk, you listen, and follow my instructions. Play stupid, play clever, make the mistake of saying no? That collar on your neck will go off and take your head with it." "Elijah," Veronica said, still looking stunned, "what the hell is going on here?" Elijah sounded a bit surprised. "Veronica, is that you? How did- ah, you must have got caught in one of my traps. Lucky you. The beast must have been fed."

"Elijah, no one's seen you since Helios. Where have you been? What have you been doing? Where the hell are _we_?" "Ah, Helios. I was so close to uncovering the secret there, before those NCR fools took the facility and Hoover Dam. Stupid children playing with bombs. It is of no matter, I have found something that will enable me to wipe the slate clean." "Yeah," Mark said, "you and Veronica can catch up later. I have some questions of my own." "Ah, Veronica," Elijah said, "you brought a friend. Hurry up and ask your question, then." "Ok, first of all, where-the fuck-are-we?" Mark said, stressing each word. "This is the Sierra Madre. It is a monument to everything the old world stood for. Greed, corruption, wastefulness. But the casino itself is of no matter. What I seek is under the casino itself."

"Alright," Mark continued, "so where is all of our gear?" "The Sierra Madre has many…defenses, means of screening guests for illicit or dangerous materials. Your arrival here, weaponless, was not my intention. Your gear has been taken to a secure location within the casino itself. The process is automated, and the casino itself has other, similar services. I was unable to find a workaround, except to send in others as tools." "Ok, so tell me then, how do I still have my pip-boy?" "That piece of RobCo trash has a biometric seal on it, and security is unable to remove anything that can only be removed by the wearer." "Elijah," Veronica said, "You abandoned us at Helios. I have to know. What was so important that you refused to order a retreat?" "Veronica, the past is of no consequence. What matters is that I need your help. Perhaps it is fortunate that you are here. If we succeed, we will be able to make the Brotherhood the dominant force on the west coast again. That is why I need to get into the vault under the casino."

"Why? What's in this vault?" "Ah, that's the question, isn't it? Human nature dictates that we keep our most valuable secrets locked up. I believe the schematics to the technology here are in that vault. When we get to it, the world will take notice and the Brotherhood will no longer need to hide in the shadows. Not even McNamara, or Hardin, or those fools at Lost Hills will be able to stop what will be coming." "Uh, sorry to interrupt again," Mark said, "but I have more questions. Why the hell is the sky red?" "I call it the Cloud." Elijah said, "It is not a natural occurrence." "No shit," Veronica said under her breath. Elijah continued. "It has blanketed the casino and Villa since the bombs dropped, preserving them." "Is the air safe to breathe?" Mark asked.

"Yes. The air is only lethal if you enter concentrated pockets of the Cloud. Too long inside one, you'll die, so be careful where you step. I've seen some survive concentrated pockets for short periods of time, if healthy enough; others were too weak. Rebreathers, chemical suits, it's all useless. The Cloud decays everything it touches." "You've-you've sent others in there?" Veronica asked. "Yes," Elijah said, "too many, though. This place is dangerous. Its hazards have claimed many. Failures upon failures. The Sierra Madre is a complicated lock, and I need human hands to open it." Mark looked at the ground, and saw some type of weapon. He picked it up and examined it. "Elijah," Mark asked, "what is this weapon? It looks like a grenade launcher, but heavily modified."

"It is a holorifle. I constructed it when I arrived. For now, that will have to serve as your only means of defense until you find other weapons, and I suggest you do. The ammunition is limited. I fashioned it from the holograms of the villa, and used it against the villa's inhabitants." "Wait," Veronica asked, "holograms? Like the woman in the fountain?" "The holograms here act as vendors, performing the duties the dead once did. There are also security holograms. Weapons are useless against them. Energy weapons, EMP's, they will all do nothing. Each hologram is limited in its range by an emitter, however. Destroy it or disable it, and they will cease to be a problem."

"You mentioned something about 'inhabitants?'" Mark inquired. "Yes. The…inhabitants. I would avoid them if you can. They are difficult to kill. Whatever created them, bullets, explosions, energy, it only renders them inert for a short time, and then they will get back up. You will need to cut off a limb to ensure proper death. Now enough of these questions. The reason you both are here is to help me break into the vault. But as I have discovered, one cannot do it alone. There are three other collars like yours around the villa. Find them, and then contact me when you are ready for next phase. But be warned. Try to take the treasure for yourself? All of your collars are linked. One goes off, they all go off. There are also speakers and radios located around the villa that can set your collars off prematurely. The radios, either destroy them or turn them off. The speakers are another matter."

"They have decayed over the years. The ones with a blue light, they can be destroyed. The ones with a red light cannot. They are shielded, and need to be avoided or turned off another way." "How are we supposed to find the others out here?" Mark asked. "Your pip-boy. It is just a machine. It can be manipulated to anyone's needs. And yes, I have access to it. Each collar gives off its own frequency. I have pinged their locations to your pip-boy map. Contact me when you have the others. We're done here." The picture over the fountain turned back into the holographic woman. Mark and Veronica looked at each other. "So…that's Elijah, huh? Seems about as pleasant as a deathclaw." Mark put the holorifle on the edge of the fountain, and checked his pip-boy. "Well, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that it's only been five hours since we walked into that the bunker slash trap. The bad news is that we're in northern Nevada, and I have absolutely no idea how we got here in five hours. It looks like we have to play along until we find a way out of this."

"Maybe…maybe I can talk some sense into him. Get him to let us go." "Look, Veronica, I don't know what he was like when he was your Elder, but from what I can tell, he waved goodbye to his sanity a long time ago." Veronica looked at him pleadingly. "Mark, please, if or when we see him, please don't kill him. I've got to at least try. If you really are my friend, you will at least give me that chance." "Veronica, he is forcing two people, one of whom he knows, to fight creatures that don't die unless you cut off a limb, under a blood-red cloud of god-knows-what that is probably slowly killing us as we speak. We also have to find three people to help him break into an old-world casino, which probably has security up the wazoo, to get into a vault that even he doesn't know what's inside. God knows how many other people he's sent to their deaths in this hellhole. He has lost his damn mind. He needs to be put out of his misery."

"Mark, please." Mark sighed and hung his head. "Alright, fine. But it's the same rules as Hidden Valley. If he attacks me, I will defend myself, and then all bets are off. I will kill him if necessary." Veronica got a relieved look on her face. "Thank you. So, who should we go for first?" Mark looked at the map on his pip-boy. The pip-boy created maps using historical and real-time satellite data, but there was no map of this place. It could create a map as they went, but that didn't help them at the moment. All there was were five blinking dots. Two of them were him and Veronica, and the other three were spread around the villa. Mark pointed to the one that was closest to them, which was to their left and a little towards the casino. "That seems to be the closest. Let's go there first." "Okay. Let's go," Veronica said. Mark picked up the holorifle. "Just be on your guard. And on the way, you can tell me what Helios is, and what the hell happened there."

(Same time, Lucky 38)

It was close to 11 pm, and Amata had gone from annoyed, to pissed, to now just worried sick. Mark's pip-boy signal had disappeared entirely. She kept looking at her pip-boy, hoping that the signal would reappear. She kept pacing around the room in a tank top and sweat pants, the black dress and shoes she was planning to wear on their date having long since been taken off and thrown aside. When Arcade and Cass asked where Mark was, Amata pretended like everything was okay, telling them that they got caught up helping the NCR with some business, and that they would be back late. They seemed to buy it, and they left her alone. She hadn't seen Boone since they talked in the kitchen hours ago.

Mark had said that the signal would be blocked while they were in the bunker where the Brotherhood was, but he had said that they were done with that. She had a gut feeling that he wasn't dead. Even if he was dead, his pip-boy would've still been transmitting. Whatever happened, she knew it was because of that radio signal he and Veronica were tracking. She checked her own pip-boy, but didn't see any radio stations that seemed out of the ordinary. There were a couple of times when she was in the vault when there would be no reports on him on the radio for days, which worried her, but she had other things on her mind at the time, like making sure that the rebellion didn't fall apart. Here, she had no such luxury, if you could call it that. Of course, she didn't really know why there were no reports on him until he told her it was because he had followed radio signals. "Dammit, Mark, I told you that this was a bad idea," she said quietly. "Why the fuck didn't you just listen to me?" She put her hands on the windowsill and looked out the window. "Mark, where the hell are you?"

(Same time, Sierra Madre Villa)

"…and that's basically what happened at Helios." Mark and Veronica were heading towards the first target. To Mark, this entire place felt like something out of an old horror movie he had seen in the vault once. Luckily, they hadn't run into any of the creatures that Elijah had mentioned yet, but Mark knew that with his luck that they would be meeting some of them soon. "So, he just outright abandoned you guys?" Mark asked. "Yeah," Veronica responded, "it's like he-"

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Their collars started to beep as they entered the area that was deemed as the medical district. They stepped back, and the beeping thankfully stopped. They looked around for where the radio or speaker was. There was a light illuminating the cobblestone path I front of them, but nothing resembling what they were looking for. There was a wooden overhang above them. "Do you see anything?" Mark asked. "No," Veronica responded, "there's no radio or speaker that I can see. Maybe it's above that overhang." Mark ran out from under the overhang as his collar started to beep. He saw a white speaker, and they were in luck, because the light was blue. Mark quickly lined up his shot, and fired at the speaker. What looked like blue cubes came out from the end of the weapon and hit the speaker, destroying it, and the beeping stopped. Mark exhaled, and looked at the end of the weapon. He had never seen anything like that before.

Veronica walked out. "Well, we're not dead, so I assume you got it." "Yeah. Although, this is an interesting weapon, because I don't really know what the hell just came out of the end of it. It looked like the hologram that we saw at the fountain." "Well, Elijah was a whiz with technology. He had this gift where he could just look at something and immediately know how it worked, so the fact that he built this doesn't really surprise me," Veronica said. They walked another twenty feet or so when Veronica noticed something. "Mark, I see something." They took cover on opposite sides of an archway and peeked around their respective corners. About twenty yards away they saw a human-shaped figure walking, albeit slowly and awkwardly, like how someone would walk with a sprained ankle. It was wearing some kind of green suit, and its eyes were glowing green. It was also carrying something long and narrow.

Mark held a finger to his lips, indicating for Veronica to remain silent. Mark aimed with the holorifle around the corner and lined up his shot. He needed to be careful, because this rifle only had five microfusion cells left, so that meant five shots. He took aim and fired. The creature made a weird noise and quickly moved out of the way. Mark couldn't even begin to guess what the noise was, or how the creature moved so quickly, mainly because the creature was on him before he knew it. The creature seemed to be carrying some type of spear, which it tried to stab Mark with. Mark moved out of the way, and slammed the butt of the rifle into the back of its head, causing it to stumble forward. The creature turned and headed back to Mark, but Veronica came from behind it and twisted its head, causing it to fall to the ground. She then took the spear out of its hand, and the drove the spear into its neck. Then, with one clean swipe, beheaded the creature, ensuring its death.

A white fluid spurted out of the creature's neck. Veronica examined the spear. It was four kitchen knives taped to a broom handle. "Hmm," Veronica said, "if these creatures can make crude weapons like this, they might still have some form of cognitive function." "Well, good for them. They're slightly smarter than feral ghouls. Come on, I think we're close." They continued walking, nearly walking into a concentrated area of the Cloud, which Veronica noticed and stopped Mark from walking into it. They came up to a building with the words "Medical Clinic" illuminated in neon above the door. Mark checked his pip-boy. Whoever we're looking for is in there," he said.

They opened the door, walked in, and shut the door behind them. The area was dimly lit, with a couch to their right, some chairs to their left, and a reception desk with a couple of ruined terminals on it. There was a hallway to the right of them, and a stairway leading upward on the left side of the room. They searched the room. Mark looked on the reception desk. There were a couple of stimpaks and a holotape with writing on it. It said, "Vending Machine Code-Stimpaks," on it. "Hey, Veronica, have you seen any vending machines around here?" "Don't know. Haven't really been looking for them. But look at this." She was examining something next to the chairs they saw when they entered. There was a white handprint above an old suitcase. Veronica opened it and they both looked inside. There were three stimpaks, a 9 mm pistol with some ammo, and a frag grenade. "Who do you suppose left this here?" Veronica asked. "Don't know, don't really care. It's ours now. I've got the rifle, you can take the pistol. I found a couple of stimpaks on the desk, so you can take those." Veronica, who also had the spear from the creature they killed, stuck the pistol in the back of her pants, the stimpaks in her pocket, and gave the grenade to Mark. "Veronica, do you hear a tapping noise?" There was a dull tapping noise, which Mark hadn't really noticed up until this point. Veronica listened. "Yeah, I think it's coming from down that hallway." Mark checked his pip-boy. The signal was coming from that direction. "I think we found our first mystery person."

They walked down the hallway and turned a corner. They looked in the first room on their left. There was a grey, freestanding circular metal tube with a picture of a snake wrapped around a rod, which Mark recognized from his dad's medical books as the Rod of Asclepius, the Greek symbol for medicine. There was a terminal attached to it. Veronica looked at the terminal. "Mark IX Auto-Doc," she read. "Well," Mark said, "it doesn't look like the auto-doc that the Followers have." They walked back out of the room and continued down the hallway when-

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

They both took a couple of steps backward. Mark looked up and saw a speaker at the end of the hallway, only this time the light was red, meaning it couldn't be destroyed. "Fuck," Mark said, "how the hell are we supposed to disable that thing?" Veronica thought for a moment. "We passed a set of stairs heading down. Maybe there's something in the basement to kill the power." "Well, it's our only option at this point. Let's go check it out." They walked down the stairs to a small landing with a wooden door. Veronica tried to open it, but it was locked. "How do you wanna get this open?" Veronica turned around, and looked at Mark. "Move," Mark said. Veronica stepped out of the way, and Mark gave a swift kick to the door, right near the door handle. The door splintered open. "Problem solved," Mark said as he walked past Veronica. The room was dimly lit, with rusted generators on either side of them, and a desk with a computer on it. Veronica sat down at the desk and started typing.

"Ok, so the speakers should be off now, but the holographic security in here is still active, so be careful." They walked back up the stairs, and when they turned the corner, they saw that there was no longer any light on the speaker. Even so, they proceeded carefully, listening to the tapping noise grow as thy came to the last room in the hallway. There was another auto-doc, with the tapping coming from inside. Mark walked up to it. "Hello? Can you hear me? I'm gonna let you out." Mark hit the release button, and the door hissed open. As soon as it did, Mark felt someone tackle him and started to punch him. "Uh, Veronica, little help please?" he said while trying to deflect what he saw was a woman's punches. The woman did a double-take when she saw Veronica, and she stopped punching, which enabled Mark to throw her off of him. He then stood up, very pissed off.

"What the hell, woman? I got you out of there, and that's how you thank me?" Neither the woman or Veronica was paying attention to him. They were staring at each other in disbelief, and Veronica looked like she was on the verge of tears. They then started to make out, which was the last thing Mark expected to happen. He started to get very uncomfortable. "Uh, Veronica, you wanna let me know what's going on here?" They stopped kissing and they both looked at Mark. "Mark, this is Christine Royce, the woman I told you about." "So, this is the woman that Elijah separated you from?" At the mention of Elijah, Christine scowled. Now that she wasn't attacking him, Mark got a good look at her. She was bald, with surgical scars around her head and one on her throat. She was wearing a blood-stained white tank-top with camouflage pants, and she also had a bomb collar around her neck.

"Well," Mark said, "at least we know why she didn't check in with McNamara." Christine looked at Veronica and raised an eyebrow. "It's okay, he knows about the Brotherhood," Veronica said, "he worked with them in DC. Christine, where have you been? Come on, talk to me." Christine pointed to the scar on her throat, opened her mouth, and shook her head. "The auto-doc took out your vocal cords?" Veronica guessed. Christine nodded. "Christine, what are you doing here?" Christine pretended she was looking down the scope of a gun, and swept the area. "Veronica," Mark said, "I'm not great at charades. Do you understand what that was?" "You're looking for someone?" Christine nodded. "Oh yeah," Mark said, "McNamara said she was tracking someone." "Who are you tracking?" Veronica asked. Christine put her right hand on her chin and pulled down. Veronica's face fell. "You're tracking Elijah, aren't you? You're here to kill him." Christine nodded.

"Christine," Veronica pleaded, "you can't. I think I can talk some sense into him." After Veronica said that, Christine made a series of hand gestures that Mark couldn't follow, but apparently Veronica could. "Christine, he's not crazy." More gestures. "He was our Elder. You can't just discount that." The gestures became more demonstrative. Veronica put her hand over her mouth in shock. "And you kissed your mother with that mouth?" As intriguing as it was to watch Christine and Veronica play "angry charades," Mark knew it was time to end this. Mark put an arm between the both of them.

"Alright, alright, ladies, time out." They both looked at him. "Look," Mark said, "I know you guys just found each other, and you've probably got a lot to talk, or argue, or hand gesture about, but this is neither the time nor the place. In case you've both forgotten, we've all got bomb collars around our necks, and until we can figure out how to get them off, we have to play Elijah's game. Now, we're in a medical facility, so we need to search this place for any usable supplies. So, for now, can we just call a truce, and focus on surviving? We've got two other people to find." Both Christine and Veronica crossed their arms and turned away from each other. Mark clapped his hands together. "Alright, I'll take that as a yes."

Mark walked in front of Christine. "Uh, Christine, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I am Mark Franklin." He extended his hand for Christine to shake, but she frowned and walked out of the room. Mark was confused. "Was it something I said?" he asked Veronica. "I wouldn't take it personally," Veronica said. "She's Brotherhood to the core, so she has a hard time trusting outsiders. Once she gets to know you like I know you, she'll soften up." "Well, I hope so. The fact that she can't speak is already making it hard enough to communicate as it is." Mark then cracked a smile. "So this has been an interesting day, hasn't it?" "Yeah," Veronica said, staring at the doorway, "it certainly has."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I tried to come up with a feasible reason as to why your pip-boy wouldn't be taken, because unless I missed something, I don't think it was mentioned in the game. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**


	40. Chapter 40: Divided Minds

They found Christine waiting in the hallway. As they made their way up to the second floor, Mark couldn't help but wonder what Veronica was feeling right now. She had just found two people from her past who she believed to be dead, although one was likely insane, and one couldn't speak, and very likely didn't trust him, and was angry with Veronica (from what he could tell by Veronica's reactions to Christine's hand gestures). They came to the top of the stairs. Mark peeked around the corner, and saw another hologram at the other end of the hallway. This one was of a man wearing a security guard's uniform. It was standing motionless at the other end of the hallway. He saw the emitter at the bottom of the wall on their right.

He motioned for Christine and Veronica to stay. He walked slowly to the black, half-spherical shaped emitter, when the security guard turned around and saw Mark. Mark was frozen in his tracks, waiting for what happened next. He saw the blue hologram turn yellow. Mark wondered why they were supposed to be dangerous, when it put its hands to its head and turned red. "Oh, crap." Mark dived out of the way, landing in an old office as a beam of energy went where he was a few moments ago, and hit the opposite wall. Mark stood next to the doorway, waiting for the security guard to come in, but it never did. Mark took a peek in the hallway. The hologram had turned back to yellow, and just stood there. After a few moments, it turned back to blue. As soon as it walked past the room Mark was in, Mark went out in the hallway, and smashed the emitter with the butt of the holorifle. The glass broke, and the wiring inside sparked, and the hologram disappeared.

"Clear!" Mark called out. Christine and Veronica came to the landing. "Are you guys okay?" "We're fine," Veronica said. "That was an interesting hologram, though. Imagine the practical uses for it." "Yeah," Mark said, "well, Elijah said he was looking for schematics for the technology here. Maybe that's one of the things he was looking for. Come on, let's search the rest of the floor." The search turned up a couple of med-x, a stimpak, and, more practically, a brown doctor's bag, which meant that they wouldn't have to keep everything in their pockets. They went back downstairs to search the remainder of the first floor. There was nothing in the rooms with the auto-docs, and Christine hadn't joined them in those rooms, opting to remain in the hallway, and Mark couldn't blame her. Who knows how long she had been stuck in that auto-doc? She probably had severe claustrophobia by now.

The last room they looked in was an examination room, and after checking that there was no auto-doc, Christine followed the others in there. There were two headless corpses wearing grey jumpsuits, similar to what Mark and Veronica were wearing. They also had bomb collars on what was left of their necks. "Oh my god," Veronica said in shock when she saw them. Mark was hoping that she was realizing that these were two of the people Elijah had condemned to death, and that there was no hope for Elijah. She shook it off and continued to look around. "Look at this," she said. They saw what she was looking at: a full set of green, nearly skin-tight composite body armor. "Well," Veronica said, "there's only one set." "One of you guys take it," Mark said. "Are you sure, Mark?" "I insist. This isn't the first time I've been thrust into a hostile environment with no armor whatsoever." Veronica narrowed her eyes a bit, but not in a menacing way. "There's a story behind that, isn't there?" she asked. "Yeah, and one day I might tell it to you. I'll be waiting in the lobby."

Mark went into the lobby and sat on the couch. He looked at the radio frequencies that were now on his pip-boy. One was the Sierra Madre Broadcast that had brought them here in the first place. There were six others, although those just listed the numbered frequencies. He guessed that the highest number was Elijah's, and since he (probably, although Mark thought he might just be crazy enough to) didn't put a collar on himself, he was likely using a radio in a safe location that wasn't pinged to him. There was no way to guess as to what frequency belonged to whom among the three of them and the other two collars in the villa. Amata's frequency had disappeared, as he figured it would have, since they were well outside the twenty-five mile radius for them to stay in communication.

He sat back and closed his eyes, and imagined her smile, and wondered what she was doing right now. Knowing her for as long as he has, she was probably pissed off and worried sick at the same time. But he also knew that she was strong enough to carry on by herself until he could figure a way out of this predicament. "Don't worry, babe," he said quietly, "I'm gonna find my way back home. Like I always told you, I will always come back." "Mark, who are you talking to?" Mark opened his eyes. Christine and Veronica were staring at him. Christine had been given the body armor, and on her hip she saw the 9mm pistol they had found earlier, and she was also carrying a knife they had apparently found in there. Veronica was carrying the doctor's bag and the spear from earlier. "Uh, no one," he said as he stood up. "Let's just get going."

They were making their way towards the second collar. Mark could hear the noises that the inhabitants were making elsewhere, as they were echoing off of the walls, but luckily for the three of them, they had avoided any direct confrontation. They came upon a human skeleton with a spear through its ribs, pinned up against the wall. Written in white paint above was the phrase, "WHERE IS YOUR GOD NOW?" "Yeah, that's not ominous or anything," Mark said, as he saw something gleaming next to the body. There were two golden, octagonal coins with one half of a woman's smiling face, and the letter "SM" inscribed in them. He showed them to Christine and Veronica. "Huh. Wonder what these are for," he said aloud. Christine closed her eyes and shook her head. Then she grabbed Mark by the arm and dragged him over to some wooden looking device against a wall. It had an ornately decorated wooden base, with a blue, glowing screen-type thing resting on top of it. Mark and Veronica stared at it. "Christine," Mark said, "what are we looking at?"

Christine rolled her eyes and took the coins out of Mark's hand. She put them in one of the slots on the machine. A menu appeared in the circle on top of the machine, listing various items for sale. "Oh," Mark said in realization, "these must be the vending machines. Veronica, can you hand me that stimpak holotape?" Veronica took it out of the bag and handed it to Mark. He put it in a slot just under the coin slot, which looked just the right size. An alert appeared on the screen, saying stimpaks were now available for sale. Mark used a finger to scroll up and down. "Ok, so they sell med-x, stimpaks, some types of ammo, and some food. Looks like these coins are just going to get us some food." Mark suddenly realized how hungry he was. "You guys hungry?" "Yeah," Veronica said, "I could go for some food." Christine, who had been keeping watch, simply nodded.

Mark selected a Fancy Lads Snack Cake. As soon as the selection was confirmed, a square silver plate on the front of the machine rose up. They looked inside. At first, there was only a hologram of the package, but a second later there was an actual package there. Christine remained stoic, but Mark and Veronica were amazed. "Did that…it just appeared from nothing. That's amazing!" Veronica said a little excitedly. Mark ripped open the package and ripped off roughly equal sized chunks of the snack cake, and handed them to Christine and Veronica.

As they continued their way to their next target, Mark contemplated something. Elijah said that he wanted the schematics for the technology in this place. The technology that they had encountered so far were security holograms that can shoot laser beams and can't be shot or blown up, and vending machines that seemed to make something out of nothing. Mark was getting a feeling that Elijah wasn't telling them the whole plan. Then again, Mark had forgotten, insane dictatorial nut jobs rarely did. Add in the fact that the Cloud, which wasn't a natural occurrence, could preserve, decay, and kill, all at the same time. If it wasn't natural, then theoretically, it could be replicated.

'What's your game, Elijah? What are you planning?' he thought to himself. "Mark?" Veronica asked. "Huh? Sorry, what was that?" "Mark, how close are we?" Mark checked. "According to this, we need to go up those stairs and it should just be a bit further after that." They ascended the staircase and came to an open area with a dry fountain, and on the other side of the fountain was the Villa's police station. Walking in front of the entrance was another one of the green creatures. This one, however, was a bit taller, and was wearing some type of contraption on its right hand. Mark looked at the others. "So, how do we want to-" He was interrupted by Christine firing a couple of shots at the creature. It staggered it a bit, but it did not fall and charged at them. Mark fired a shot with the holorifle, but that did little to slow it down. Veronica dropped the doctor's bag and ran at it with the spear. The creature swung its right fist, and what looked like a bear trap caught the spear and broke it in half.

The creature looked at it, trying to shake it out of the trap, but it was stuck. With the creature distracted, they took their opportunity to strike. Veronica smacked it across the head with the other half of the broom handle, which staggered it enough for Mark to tackle it to the ground. He punched its face repeatedly before Christine threw him off, and used the knife she had acquired earlier and sliced its head off. Mark got up off the ground and dusted himself off. "Alright, good teamwork everyone. Uh, Christine, I normally like to have a plan before I go running into battle, so please just remember that for next time, okay?" Christine just put the knife on the edge of the fountain and grabbed the few coins that were in the fountain. After they collected the coins, they made their way into the police station.

There were only splotches of light illuminating the interior of the police station. In the back right corner was a large cell with a couple of desks in front of it, and in the cell, there appeared to be a large blue creature with its back turned to them. It also appeared to be talking to itself. They took a step forward when their collars started to beep. They stepped back. The beeping stopped, and they looked around. Mark counted two HAM radios on desks in front of the cell, and one on a desk off to their left. Before Mark or Veronica could say anything, Christine fired three shots, and all of the radios were destroyed. Mark had to admit, that was slightly impressive. They stepped forward, and when they heard no beeping, they exhaled, and the three of them approached the cage.

"Uh, hi," Mark said as he knocked on one of the bars a couple of times. It didn't respond to them, and it continued muttering to itself. Mark banged a bit harder. "Excuse me, can you turn around so we can talk?" It turned its head briefly, looking at them, before turning back around. The face reminded Mark of Fawkes a bit, except for the obvious difference that it was blue. Mark tried to open the cage, but it was locked, and he had nothing to try and pick the lock with. Mark looked at Veronica and Christine. "Either of you ever seen a mutant like that before?" "They're called nightkin," Veronica said. "They use stealth boys to ambush their prey. There's a group of them on Black Mountain near Hidden Valley, and there are rumors of some mutants up in Charlestown in the mountains. Why one is here by itself is beyond me." "Well, according to his pip-boy, he's the next "person" that we need, so we need to find some way to communicate with him. Keep trying, will you Veronica? Christine, search this floor for any usable weapons or armor. I'll check the rest of the building." Veronica nodded, and Christine just walked away.

Mark walked through a doorway when his collar started to beep. He stepped back, and saw an old-time radio, similar to the one they had seen in the trap Elijah had apparently set. He ran up to it and switched it off, and the beeping stopped. Mark descended the staircase into the basement, when he heard a strange voice, seemingly from out of nowhere. "That's it, just a bit further," the deep, seemingly animalistic voice said. "Come find my voice. Find what puts the dog in its cage, and then…then we can talk." The voice cut out, and Mark stood there, a bit perplexed. "Hello?" he called out, but there was no answer. "Put the dog in its cage?" Mark wondered aloud. "What the hell does that mean? I haven't seen any dogs around here."

He went down in the basement, destroying a speaker as he went. Most of the stuff down here was crap, but he was able to find a couple of clips of 10 mm ammunition. 'That's good,' Mark thought, 'if they had the ammunition, that must mean they have 10 mm pistols around here somewhere.' He continued searching when he found a holotape on a desk. It had, "Dog Command Tape" written on it. 'Wait,' Mark thought, 'didn't that voice say something about putting a 'dog' in its cage?' He downloaded it wirelessly, and after finding nothing else useful, he went back upstairs.

It seemed that Christine had some luck finding supplies, but Veronica getting frustrated, nearly yelling at the creature. "Any luck?" Mark asked as he came back next to her. "All he keeps saying is something about a "master." What about you? Find anything?" He showed her the ammunition in his pocket. "I also found a holotape, and there was this weird voice that came over the speakers, saying something about 'putting the dog in its cage', so I'm gonna try something." Mark played the recording. The same voice that Mark heard in the basement played. " **Dog! Back in the cage!** " As soon as the tape finished, he nightkin's head shot up, like it had been awoken from a trance. He staggered to his feet, and turned around. Veronica let out an involuntary gasp, and Mark understood why. He nightkin was wearing a heavy-duty chain like a necklace, had a bear trap clamped over its left hand, and the word "DOG" was carved into its chest.

The nightkin approached them. Veronica and Christine back up a bit, but Mark stared at it and held his ground. He looked around, as if he was looking for someone or something specific. "Well, what have we here? You weren't who I was expecting. Still…even if you aren't my intended guest, you couldn't have been idiots to figure out how to release me from my cage." He paused. "Or perhaps you three are, with the leash on your arm-" he motioned to Mark- "and the ones around your necks. With our collars, we might as well be kin." Veronica and Christine looked a bit shocked to hear a super mutant that was articulate, but Mark had experience with Fawkes, so the novelty had worn off a bit. "Hi," Mark said, "I'm Mark Franklin, this is Veronica Santangelo and Christine Royce. Who were you expecting?" The nightkin looked at Mark curiously, noting the lack of fear on Mark's face.

"You do not appear to fear me. How unusual." "I've faced and killed bigger. Plus, you're not the first intelligent super mutant that I've met, although he preferred the term, "Meta Human." So do you want to explain to us why you weren't answering us before?" "To answer your first question, I was hoping the old man would make an appearance." Veronica spoke. "Why-why do you want to talk with him?" The nightkin growled. "The old man…obsessed with the Sierra Madre, riddled with greed. Hoped you might be him when I woke up. All three of you are only his hands. You all have the same kind of greed. Followed the radio signal, and now you're here, all confused. Not for long, though." "Look," Mark said, "I'm not here for any money. I only heard of the Sierra Madre a few hours ago. I just want to go home. We don't even know how the hell we got here." "Oh, I know how you got here," the nightkin said, "even if I don't see it happen. Down in the cage, I hear echoes of the footfalls, the click of the collars. Every time I see one of you, I know exactly how you got here. You couldn't control yourselves, any more than Dog can help himself."

Veronica looked at his chest. "Aren't you Dog? Why is it carved in your chest?" "Dog. Elijah's lackey. He is not as… articulate as I am. He carved it in our chest to remind him of who he is, put this trap on our arm." Mark realized something. "So you have two personalities. One is Dog, so who are you?" "I guess you could call me the voice of reason. You may call me God." "So, God," Mark continued, "you're saying that Dog dragged Veronica and I here. That tape, it brought you out. So, what is this cage?" "The cage. We trade places. When Dog is out, I am in the cage, and unable to be in control. When I am in control, Dog is in the cage. Dog, he is conditioned to need a master. The old man found him, so now when he says fetch, Dog fetches."

"I've seen this before," Veronica said, "It's common in nightkin. Excessive stealth boy use can cause paranoia and multiple personality disorder." "Yes," God growled, "that is the _human_ excuse, as if technology is the cause of all man's ills. So, why are you all here?" "Elijah sent us to find three other collars. Christine here was the first, and you're the second, but I don't actually see a collar." "Oh, it is here, closer to me than you may think. Dog, sometimes he doesn't watch what he eats, gets careless." "Wait," Mark said, "so the collar is in your stomach?" "Yes, and I can feel its warm embrace as we speak." Mark continued. "Look, Elijah needs us to get into the casino or whatever, so I actually need you to come out of the cage. The literal one, not the mental one." "No, that's not going to happen," God said, "this cage is more to keep Dog from getting out than others getting in. It's for his own safety." "I don't think you understand," Mark said, "if you refuse to comply, all of these collars go boom, and as a general rule, I try to avoid dying as often as possible."

"Then I still win. Dog will be free from the old man's grasp." Mark saw this going nowhere, so he got a better idea. "You know," Mark said nonchalantly, "I bet _Dog_ would be more compliant. I see the key around your neck. I could just have Dog unlock the cage." God actually looked a bit nervous. "You-you wouldn't. Even if you had a way of bringing him out." "Oh, but I do. I have Elijah's frequency, and Dog will come out, and he can tell Dog to obey me." "If you do, then the next time I come out, I'll break all of your limbs, and prop you all up in front of the Sierra Madre, and you can slowly die knowing the treasure is forever out of your reach." "I don't want the damn treasure," Mark said, "I want to go home. I'd rather work with someone I can trust. Now, I have the power to send you back to the cage, and I'm going to use that power… by not using it." God seemed to be thinking. "You would still work with me, even though Dog is easier to control. Hmm. Very well. I accept your proposition. But trust is such a strong word. How about we go with… mutual need?" "Whatever works for you," Mark said. God pulled a smaller chain around from the back of his neck, and nimbly reached through the bars and unlocked the cage. "So, where do we go from here?" Veronica asked.

Mark looked at his pip-boy. I was nearly 1 am. "Well, I'm tired, and I could use some sleep. We have one more collar to find, but I don't think Elijah would detonate these collars just yet. This place seems pretty secure, and it's probably the safest place we're going to find in the Villa. I saw some mattresses in the cells in back." Christine headed in back. "Yeah, alright," Veronica said, "I am kind of tired." She also went in back. Mark turned back to God. "You won't eat us while we sleep, will you?" "Do not worry. Dog has been fed, and I am firmly in control now. It will be a while before he needs to feed again. You are safe."

They had dragged the mattresses out to the main area. God had gone in the basement to "meditate." Fawkes had a tendency to meditate as well. Mark though it had something to do with suppressing the urge to kill and eat everything that wasn't a mutant. Veronica was awoken by a noise. She saw Christine sleeping, but she saw Mark walking quietly to a hallway on the right side of the station, and he looked like he was acting sneaky. Becoming curious, she quietly followed him. She saw him go into a room at the end of the hallway. She got a bit closer, and then heard a voice that wasn't Mark's. It was Amata's voice.

" _Hi, Mark,"_ the recording began, _"When you were gone for all that time, you said that you missed the sound of my voice. So, with us beginning our new lives together, and with you starting your job as a courier, I made this recording so that you can hear my voice, even when you're not at home. I just want you to know that you are everything that I could ever ask for. You are kind, sweet, gentle, and a great lover. I know that, when the time comes, you will make an excellent father as well. You are my knight in shining armor. You rescued me when I needed you the most. I am eternally grateful that you came into my life, even though the only reason you did come into my life caused your father great pain. As sad and horrible as your mother dying was, I believe that we were brought together for a reason. No matter what challenges life has in store for us, I look forward to facing them all with you by my side. You are the best thing that has ever happened, or will ever happen to me. I love you, Mark, and I always will."_

The recording finished. "I love you, too, Amata," Mark said. He sighed. "You can come in, Veronica. No need to hide." Veronica stood there for a few moments, frozen, before she made her way in to what was a locker room. "How did you know I was there?" she asked. "I have a sense about that kind of thing. Plus, I saw your shadow." "Mark, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on a private moment. I was just curious." Mark smiled and patted the seat on the bench next to him. "It's alright. Come on, join me." She slowly sat down. "So, why did she record that if you could communicate with her over your pip-boys?" "We had only been out here for a couple of weeks at the time, and I hadn't modified them yet." He chuckled. "She thought it was cute, recording that." "It is cute," Veronica said. "You know," Mark said, "she didn't even tell me about it until I found it for myself. I think she must have done it while I was sleeping, because that's the only time I would take it off, if I took it off at all." "Well, I think that it's romantic," Veronica said. "Yeah, so did I. I recorded a message on her pip-boy, too, for when I was away." "What did you say, if you don't mind me asking?" Mark thought it over, and decided that telling her wouldn't hurt.

"I told her that I loved her, that I would always be with her, if not physically, then in spirit. I told her that she was the girl of my dreams, and I had a feeling that we were destined to be together, too. I also thanked her for putting up with all of the stupid shit that I did, and believe me, most, if not all of it was stupid, crazy, dangerous shit that probably should've killed me." Veronica wanted to ask further questions, but she decided that she had intruded enough for one night. "What time is it?" "A little after 3 AM, why?" "Well, we should probably at least try to get some sleep, if for no other reason than to keep us sane." "Yeah," Mark said, "you're probably right." They went back into the main area and went back to sleep.

Mark opened his eyes and looked at his pip-boy. It was a little after seven. Christine and Veronica seemed to be sleeping peacefully. He got up and went over to the collection of weapons and other useful items they had collected. They found a couple of bullet-proof vests, while not nearly as protective as his armor, would have to suffice for now. They found an automatic rifle, a couple of 10 mm pistols, a kitchen knife, a .357 revolver, ammunition for the weapons, a few holsters and a couple of bottles of dirty water. He decided to go find this third collar alone, mainly because he wanted to have a chat with Elijah away from Christine and Veronica. He put on a vest, a holster, took a pistol and loaded it, and put an extra clip in his pocket. He grabbed the holorifle, and walked out the door as quietly as he could so as not to wake the others. Unbeknownst to him, Christine watched him leave, but made no move to stop him.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I got the idea of Amata and Mark recording messages for each other from the beginning of Fallout 4 when Codsworth gives you the holotape of your spouse. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**


	41. Chapter 41: Talking Things Out

**Author's Note: I failed to mention prior to the last chapter that this story now has over 15,000 views. I would just like to thank everyone for your continued support. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**

(Same time, Lucky 38)

Amata rolled over in bed and reached for Mark. When all she came up with was more blankets, she kept feeling for a moment before she realized that he wasn't there. The events of yesterday came flooding back to her, most importantly the fact that Mark and Veronica had disappeared without a trace. She sat up in bed, turned on the light, and checked her pip-boy. There was still no sign of Mark.

She rested her elbows on her legs and put her head in her hands. "Mark," she said quietly, "I don't know where the hell you are or what the hell you're doing, but you need to come back soon." She put her hands on her stomach and looked at it. How long had she been pregnant now? Six, seven weeks? With everything that had been going on, she kind of lost track. She tried to do the math in her head. Doc Mitchell told her that she was about four weeks along. Mark was in a coma for a week, so that would be five. Then there was the three days Amata had taken care of him after he had woken up, and they had been on this whole trip for about a week now, so that would put her at about six weeks.

Regardless, it was more noticeable, at least to her, anyway. Mark would probably be the only other one who could tell the difference as well. It wasn't like she habitually wore skin-tight clothes like the vault suit anymore, where it would be more pronounced. She checked the time. It was a little after 7 AM, so she decided to get up. She got out of bed, went into the bathroom, and threw up. 'Fucking morning sickness,' she thought, 'I could definitely do without you.' After she was sure she had gotten it all out, at least for now, she brushed her teeth, fixed her hair, got dressed, and went into the hallway.

It looked like no one else was up at the moment, which was fine with her. She really didn't feel like answering questions about where Mark and Veronica were at the moment. However, when she went into the kitchen and turned on the light, she realized she had forgotten about the one member of their team that didn't actually need to sleep. Fortunately, he was also the only one who couldn't speak. She jumped a bit when she saw him. "Oh, ED-E, it's only you. I almost forgot about you." She patted him on the chassis, and went outside on the balcony to get some air. ED-E came out with her, and she shut the door behind them. It was a beautiful morning, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, a wonderful mix of reds, oranges and yellows nearly taking her breath away.

She smiled and shook her head. To think her father almost denied her the chance to see something like this. Then she sighed and hung her head. She stayed like that for a few moments, when her pip-boy beeped. She got excited for a second, thinking it was Mark. There was a message on the screen, and from what she could tell, it wasn't from Mark. All it said was 'Sad?' She was confused. Who else could send her a message, or even see her for that matter? No one else in the 38 had a pip-boy, and she doubted that anyone on the ground could see her, much less know how she was feeling at that particular moment. Then ED-E beeped, and Amata looked at him, a bewildered look on her face. "ED-E, was that you?" He beeped in the affirmatory, or what Amata assumed to be a 'yes.' 'How did he do that?' she thought. Mark had never mentioned that eyebots could do something like that. Then again, she reasoned, from what Mark had told her, the ones he encountered in DC weren't his allies, as much as they claimed to be, so maybe he didn't fully understand what they could do. Either way, this was an interesting development.

She looked back at the sunrise. "Yes, ED-E, I am sad," she said in a depressed voice, "I have absolutely no idea where my husband is, and I am worried out of my mind. I don't even know what I'm supposed to tell the others. I don't want to have to keep lying to everyone, and pretending that everything is okay when it isn't. But if Mark doesn't come back soon, I'm gonna have to tell them the truth." She sighed again. "I knew that I should have put my foot down when he wanted to go on this whole revenge quest. But he had that look on his face like he wasn't gonna let this rest. And he just has those roguish good looks, even with that scar on his face. You would think that I could resist those looks by now, but apparently I can't."

"You know, now that I think about it, maybe I agreed to this because he had all of those thrilling, albeit near-death experiences in DC, and I couldn't be a part of them. Granted, I probably wouldn't want to have done a lot of the crap that he did, but still. There I was, stuck in the vault, not even able to provide him just moral support. Maybe…maybe I just wanted to see the great 'Lone Wanderer' in his element. Now I'm just thinking that his whole thing was a mistake. Don't get me wrong, Cass and Veronica and all of them are great people, and I'm glad that I met them, but it doesn't seem like it's worth it anymore." She looked at ED-E. "Thanks for letting me get that out, ED-E. You are a very good listener." ED-E beeped, and another message appeared on her pip-boy. This time, it looked like a quote:

 _The better part of one's life consists of his friendships_

 _-Abraham Lincoln_

Amata chuckled. "You certainly are a mysterious robot, aren't you, ED-E? Uh, listen, can we keep this conversation just between the two of us?" ED-E beeped a couple of times, and Amata patted him again. "Thanks, ED-E. Let's go in. I'm kinda hungry."

(40 minutes later, Sierra Madre Police Station)

Veronica woke up, sat up, and rubbed her eyes. Christine was sitting at a working terminal, typing, and God was sitting against the cage that he had been locked in earlier. "Good morning, God. Wait, you are still God, right? You haven't switched on us, right?" He chuckled. "Yes, I am still in control. Dog is in the cage." "Good to know," she said as she walked over to Christine. She appeared to be reading some terminal entries that were left there by the security staff. Veronica stopped reading and looked around the room, and realized that she didn't see Mark. "Christine, have you seen Mark?" Without looking up from the terminal, Christine pointed to the front door. "Wait, he already left? How long ago?" Christine gestured.

"He left forty minutes ago, and you didn't bother to stop him, or at least woken me up so I could stop him?" Christine shook her head. "Why the hell not?" Veronica said angrily. Christine gestured. "I don't give a damn that he's not Brotherhood. He is my friend, and you should have realized that." Christine gestured again. "Yes, Christine, I know what the Codex says about outsiders. The thing is, I'm not so sure about the Codex anymore." Christine looked a bit taken aback.

"Christine, you know how I feel about the path we're on. Mark, he talked to McNamara for me, because I thought he could get through to him. All McNamara did was confirm what I knew all along. Without any new members, eventually we're going to die off, and then the Codex won't mean a damn thing. You know what else, Christine? Mark has a pregnant wife waiting for him. Now, I've only lived with them for four days at most, I think, and what I've seen is a love between them that far surpasses any love we have or had for each other. Now, granted, they're from DC, and they've both been kind of dodgy on the details about what happened with them out there, but whatever happened between them, their relationship came out stronger on the other side. So the fact that you would just let him leave, when all of our lives are tied together, is not only stupid, but it's also extremely irresponsible of you."

Veronica turned away from Christine. Christine got up from the desk and put a hand on Veronica's shoulder, but Veronica shook it off. "No, don't touch me. I don't even want to look at you right now." Christine looked dismayed as she sat back down. Veronica walked over to where all of their salvaged equipment was, and put on the other bulletproof vest. "I would advise against what you are planning to do," God said. "Well, I'm not just going to stay here and do nothing while my friend's life is in jeopardy."

"You should," God said. "This place, it has many twists, turns, and traps. Your friend at least has that device to help guide him to his target. You have nothing of the sort. As much as you may not like it, we will just have to wait, and hope that your friend is capable enough to traverse this terrain and return intact." Veronica sighed. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She had no idea where he would be at this point, and no idea of where that last collar was. The fact that their collars hadn't blown yet was the only indication that he was still alive. She was just going to have to have faith in him to get the job done.

Using the partially created map on his pip-boy, Mark was able to retrace his steps to avoid any speakers, although he did run into another one of the creatures that was carrying a spear. After encountering these creatures, and being able to study how they move, he was able to dispatch it without much of an issue. He found himself back at the fountain where they had woken up in the first place. The hologram of the woman in the dress stood stationary atop the fountain. The hologram looked incredibly lifelike, and if it wasn't blue, Mark may have mistaken it for an actual woman.

Mark sat down on the edge of the fountain. It probably wasn't the best idea he ever had, but the creatures seemed to avoid the area, or they would have been attacked when they were first brought here. Maybe it was something to do with the hologram. He looked at the gate that led out of this place, and for a fleeting moment, he considered making a break for it, but quickly dismissed it. Even if he could make it out before Elijah detonated his collar, he would be basically condemning Veronica and Christine to death, or at the very least an indefinite imprisonment, until Elijah could find someone else. Mark didn't know how many people Elijah had lured here, but Mark was damn sure that he and Veronica would be the last.

He switched through the frequencies, just to verify which one was Elijah's. He stopped on one: "…You know what else, Christine? Mark has a pregnant wife waiting for him. Now, I've only lived with them for four days at most, I think, and what I've seen is a love between them that far surpasses any love we have or had for each other…" Mark switched it off. Hearing Veronica say that made Mark tear up a bit. Even with her occasional snooping, Mark now had no doubt that she was a loyal friend, that she had his back. He wiped away the stray tear and flipped to the highest frequency. "…damn arthritis…," Mark heard. Bingo.

"Hey, Elijah, you there?" Mark asked. "What? Have you found the other collars?" "Almost," Mark responded. "I'm on my way to get the last one. I just wanted to talk, man to man. It's just me here. Veronica's back at the police station with the other two collars. Incidentally, one of the collars that you sent us to collect just happened to be the woman that you separated Veronica from. You know, Christine Royce? Although I don't see why it was necessary to rip out her vocal cords." "Don't be stupid. I didn't rip out her vocal cords." "Forgive me if I don't believe you. Regardless of whether you did or not, Christine isn't exactly thrilled with you at the moment, and neither am I, to be honest. Your only saving grace right now is Veronica, 'cause she's the only one who thinks that you can be saved from yourself."

"Ah, Veronica," Elijah responded, sounding a bit smug, "I could always count on her. I taught her everything that I know. As for Christine, that was…necessary. I knew about their relationship long before I separated them. Veronica eventually started losing focus, and I needed her full, undivided attention. That left me no choice but to separate them. I honestly couldn't care less that she is gay. I needed Christine out of the way." Mark tried to keep his cool, but was having trouble. "So, you made Veronica think the person that she loved more than anyone in the world had left the Brotherhood, and may have been dead for all she knew, because you thought she was losing focus? You're even more of an asshole than I thought. I don't think you know Veronica as well as you say that you do. Either that, or you have never been in love. Love makes everything in life better. Knowing you always have someone to talk to at night, to share your problems with, it can't be compared to anything else."

"You sound like you speak from experience," Elijah said. "It is of no matter. Once my plan is in motion, Veronica will fall back in line." "And what is your plan, exactly? I've seen the technology here. Impervious security guards, vending machine that can make something out of nothing, not to mention the bomb collars and the Cloud. This wouldn't have anything to do with your failure at Helios, would it?" "I didn't fail at Helios. I just…ran out of time. But my plan is far too complicated for your tiny mind to comprehend." "Try me," Mark said, "I've dealt with my fair share of megalomaniacs with convoluted plans." "You have now, have you? Alright. The NCR, the Legion, they are both rehashes of a failed world. The NCR controls technology they cannot possibly hope to understand. They took what was rightfully mine, and they will pay for their crimes."

"The cloud, once I know what it is made of, how to control it, I will unleash it on the NCR and Legion. I will wipe the slate clean." "So, basically, you plan to commit genocide. Then what? What about the Mojave? You gonna enslave them?" "Exactly. The collars, they force compliance. Human nature can be defeated, controlled. The guards, throw one emitter in the middle of a battlefield, and you become unstoppable. The vending machines are the pinnacle of pre-war technology. With those under the Brotherhood's control, people will look to us for everything, relying only on us. The Brotherhood will rise again, and this time for good."

"You know," Mark said, "I didn't think it was possible, but you're even crazier than I thought. What do you think Veronica's gonna say when I tell her all of this?" "I molded Veronica. She won't go against me. Now go. I wouldn't want you to die, and have this be all for naught." "I will not die this day, Elijah. The same cannot be said for you." Mark cut off the transmission before Elijah could respond. Mark knew that all of that information could come in handy. He just had to pick the right time to reveal it to Veronica. Mark stood up, and continued on his way to the third collar.

(Same time, Lucky 38)

Thankfully for Amata, she was able to eat breakfast with only ED-E for company. She wasn't ready to face anyone else yet, if only for no other reason that she had yet to come up with a viable excuse as to why Mark and Veronica had yet to return. So, for the time being, she went down to the gym to try to distract herself and work off some of the nervous energy that she was currently full of. She was running on a treadmill that was near the large windows that overlooked the Strip, listening to Radio New Vegas and enjoying the view. She found that Mr. New Vegas had quite the suave voice. She wondered where he was, because she would definitely be interested in meeting him in person. True, he wasn't as exciting as Three Dog, but he had his own charms. She wiped a stray strand of hair out of her face. "…in other news," Mr. New Vegas said over her pip-boy, "tensions are brewing in Freeside between the ruling gang known as the Kings and a large number of NCR squatters seeking refuge there. The leader of the Kings, who would only identify himself as 'The King,' voiced his displeasure, calling NCR citizens, quote, "the devil in disguise." He added he didn't want to see any NCR in the ghetto, and called for a mass, quote, "return to sender.""

'Did the King really say that?' Amata thought, 'He seems like such a nice man. I'll have to talk to him the next time I see him.' "And now," Mr. New Vegas continued, "I'd like to play one of my favorite songs for you. Here's Dion and the Belmonts with, "The Wanderer."" When Amata heard the name of the song, she tripped over herself and nearly fell off of the treadmill, but was able to right herself.

"…who will never settle down,

where pretty girls are, you know that I'm around

I kiss 'em and I love 'em, cause to me they're all the same,

I hug 'em and I squeeze 'em, they don't even know my name,

They call me the Wanderer, yeah, the Wanderer…"

Amata hopped off the treadmill and turned off the radio. Tears started to well up in her eyes, and she started to feel a bit weak, so she sat down on a nearby weight bench. She started to sob uncontrollably, thanking whoever that she was here by herself. The tears flowed freely, the worry for Mark becoming too much to hold in. As much as she tried to tell herself that Mark was okay, she couldn't dismiss the thoughts that ran through her mind. The thought that he was lying dead somewhere, the thought that their child would never know its father, the thought that her only tie to her life back east, the love of her life, would never again hold her in his embrace.

She didn't have long to dwell on these thoughts, however, as she heard the elevator ding open from across the room. Suddenly having to try to cover up the fact that she was crying, she took a bottle of water she was saving and dumped it over her head to make it look like she was just cooling herself off. She then took a nearby towel and wiped her face. She sniffled a bit, looked up, and saw Cass walking over to her. "Hey, 'Mata," she called out. "Cass," Amata replied. "'Mata, do ya know where Mark is?" "He's- I'm sure that he's around here somewhere. Why?" "Well, ya said that they would be back late, but I haven't seen him, and I jus' checked Veronica's room, an' she isn't in there." "Cass," Amata said as she continued to wipe off her head, "I'm Mark's wife, not his mother. He's a grown man. I don't need to constantly track his every movement. As for Veronica, I couldn't tell you. I do know for a fact that they both came back last night." "Well, could ya check where Mark is on yer pip-boy? I need ta ask him a question." Amata panicked a bit. "Uh, yeah, my pip-boy isn't working properly right now. I'm gonna have to have Mark take a look at it." She shook it a couple of times, just to try sell it.

Cass sized her up, and Amata was hoping that Cass would buy it. "Yer lyin'." "What?" Amata said nervously, "Cass, I'm telling you-" "Save it, 'Mata. I've caravanned up an' down California, Nevada, Oregon, an' I've met a lot of different people, and ta stay in business as long as I did, ya gotta be able to read people when yer negotiatin', an' I've gotten pretty good at it. Yer eyes are red an' puffy. You've been cryin', and I'm guessin' it has somethin' ta do with Mark. It's jus' us girls here. Tell me what's goin on."

Amata remained motionless for a moment, but then she fell to her knees, and the tears started to flow freely again. Cass came down to her level, and hugged her in an attempt to comfort her. "I-I have no i-i-idea wh-where Mark is," Amata said through the tears, "He-he just disappeared." Cass rubbed her back. "'Mata, why didn't ya tell us? We're yer friends." "I-I-I didn't want to wo-worry you." "'Mata, we're a team. If ya have a problem, we all have a problem. Look, I'm sure wherever they are, they're fine. Mark's a tough bastard, and Veronica's no slouch herself." She paused for a moment. "Look, Boone went out, an' Arcade's in tha lab, so maybe we could take a walk." Amata continued to cry, not responding.

Cass was trying to be patient with her, but she wasn't really the comforting type. She broke the hug, grabbed Amata by the shoulders, and forced Amata to look at her. "'Mata, look at me. **Look at me."** Amata lifted her head up slightly. "They-will-be-fine. Yer a strong woman. Mark doesn't seem like the type ta be with someone who wasn't strong. Right now, ya need ta start actin' like the strong woman that ya are, 'cause honestly, I'm itchin' ta smack ya." Amata stopped crying, although she continued to breathe heavily. "There we go. Just breathe. Now, Mark said somethin' about business with tha King. Let's go fer a walk, see what he wants. Try ta take yer mind off things." "O-Okay, I guess," Amata said, cracking a smile. Cass smiled back, and helped Amata to her feet. Cass put an arm around Amata's shoulders, and led her back to the elevator.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I apologize for the lack of action in this chapter, but we will get back to it in the next chapter. Until next time, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.** H


	42. Chapter 42: The Two Kings

A little over an hour later, Cass, Amata, and ED-E entered the Kings School of Impersonation. The Kings that were standing in the front room stopped what they were doing and looked at who had entered. When they saw Amata, they froze, remembering what had happened to their compatriots a few days ago. Amata couldn't help but smirk as she and Cass strode through the room confidently. The man guarding the door didn't even try to stop them, opening and holding the door for them. They came into the back room, where the King and a few other Kings were watching someone just finish singing on stage.

Amata made her way over to the King and tapped him on the shoulder. "I asked not to be distu-" He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw Amata. He quickly stood up. "Ah, Mrs. Franklin, it's a pleasure to see you. How are you feeling? Better, I hope?" Amata smiled. "Yes, King, thank you, I am feeling much better. And please, just call me Amata." "Of course," the King said, "my apologies." The King looked around, expecting to see Mark. "Is your husband here? Not that I'm not pleased to see you back on your feet, but there were some things that I wanted to discuss with him."

Amata looked nervously at Cass, and then back at the King. "Um, unfortunately, Mark is feeling a bit under the weather, and he sends his regards and his regrets. This sounded important, so I decided to come in his stead. I hope that it isn't a problem." The King pursed his lips. "Well," he said finally, "I was hoping he could do something for me, and it could be a bit dangerous, and I couldn't possibly ask someone in your condition to do it." "You don't have to ask, King. Besides, just walking out of the front door is dangerous these days, yet we both still do it. Trust me, whatever it is, I can handle it. And it's not like I don't have backup with me just in case," Amata said motioning to Cass and ED-E.

The King looked at Cass, like he had noticed her for the first time. "Ah, yes, miss, I remember you from the other night. Forgive me, I seem to have forgotten your name." "Cass," she said as the King shook her hand, "just Cass." "It's a pleasure," the King said. He then looked back at Amata. "And your husband's okay with this?" "Actually, King, he was the one who suggested it. He's a big boy, and he has others who can look in on him. Now, why don't you tell me it is what you need me to do." "Alright," the King said as he looked around the room. "Alright, everyone clear out. These ladies and I have some business to discuss."

The others slowly left the room, and the King motioned for Amata and Cass to sit. Amata sat down across from the King, and noticed that there was a dog lying on the ground, facing the stage. Amata reached down and scratched him behind his ears. The dog gave no recognition. He looked like a German Shepard, but on his head was a brain encased in a dome with some bluish fluid. Three of his legs and half of his body looked like it had been replaced with robotic parts. "Aww, King, who's this little guy?" Amata asked. The King grinned. "Oh, yeah, that's Rex. He's a cyberdog, part of the Denver Police Department before the war. Survived over two hundred years, and we found him just wandering in the wastes I don't even know how long ago. He's one of my best friends." Cass looked over at the dog. "Doesn't seem very lively," she said.

"Ah, time has taken its toll on him. He has his good days and his bad days. Anyway, down to business. Have either of you noticed the bodyguards at the north gate?" Both Cass and Amata shook their heads. The King continued. "Well, its good money if you can stay alive long enough. Freeside's not as safe as it used to be, so the money's well-earned. Well, usually well-earned, that is. Recently, my men tell me that one of the bodyguards, fella named Orris, is making a bit too much money. He's making a killing in repeat business. Once someone hires him, they never want anyone else." Amata was a bit perturbed at where the King was going with this. "King, if he's good at what he does, they why shouldn't he get paid? He's got the right to earn a living. If you're asking me to knock off the competition, then I'm walking out of here right now. I don't do that, and neither does Mark."

The King's face reddened. "No, no, that's not what I'm asking at all. I'm just saying that some of those guards are Kings, and I just want a level playing field. I'm just looking out for my guys. I'm not trying to get some unfair advantage." Amata's face softened a bit. She believed him. "Ok, King, so what do you want me to do?" "I want you to hire him. Play the innocent tourist. I would have one of my guys do it, but he can spot a King a mile away. See if there's anything suspicious going on. If nothing happens, so be it. I just have a hunch that things won't go so smoothly." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of caps. "There's two hundred caps in there. My guys tell that that's what it costs to hire him." The King paused for a moment.

"Look, Amata, if you want to back out, believe me when I say that I won't hold it against you. I can wait until your husband gets better." "King, I'm doing this," Amata said matter-of-factly. "I will make a much better 'innocent tourist,' than my husband ever could." She took the caps and put them in her satchel bag. The King thought it over for a moment. "You may have a point there. Maybe it is better that you do this. "Damn straight," Amata said as she and Cass stood up. She put her hunting rifle on the table. "I'm gonna leave this here. I want to look as 'innocent' as possible. I'll be back in a while with my report." They headed to the door, when Amata turned back around and looked at him. "Oh, and King? I heard those quotes you gave on the radio. We're gonna need to talk about that, because I know that you're a better person than that." As soon as Cass and Amata left, the King ran a hand through his hair. "Damn," he said to himself, "Mark is one lucky bastard."

(15 minutes later)

Amata and Cass stared at the guards from a distance. There were four of them sitting under a tattered olive-green canopy. "Yer sure ya wanna do this?" Cass asked. "Yes, Cass, I'm sure that I want to do this. I need to focus on something other than Mark." "Alright, I'll stay hidden, but I've got ma eyes on ya. ED-E'll watch ya from above." "Thanks, Cass." Cass slapped her on the back. "Eh, what are friends for?" Cass walked away, and hid in a hollowed-out building. ED-E went high up in the air, making sure to appear as small as possible. Amata walked down a nearby side-street, and doubled back to make it look like she hadn't come from the Strip or the King's HQ.

The guards were all of varying ages, and the armor and weapons they carried also differed. Amata approached them slowly, looking around Freeside nervously in an attempt to sell the 'innocent tourist' routine. When the men saw her, they all scrambled to get up, knocking each other backwards in an attempt to get to Amata first. Amata suppressed a smirk. 'Men,' she thought, 'this is gonna be too easy.' "Ex-excuse me, but I-I'm looking for, um, someone named Orris." One of the men, who looked to be about Mark's height, wearing metal armor and sporting a black goatee and messy black hair, said, "Sorry fellas, looks like someone has heard of how awesome I am." Amata wanted to roll her eyes. The other men sat back down, sulking. "I am Orris," the man said. "How may I help you, miss?" "Well, I-I need to get to the Strip. My friend wrote to me and- and he told me you were the best bodyguard here."

"Whoever your friend is, they're right. I am the best bodyguard in Freeside. You will be safest with me. Not with one of these other losers." The other guards stared daggers at him, but he seemed not to notice. "You're hired," Amata said. "It'll be nice to have a big, strong, man protecting me. Not to mention devilishly handsome." She reached into her bag and pulled out the caps the King had given her. "My friend told me that you charge two hundred caps," she said as she handed the bag to Orris. "Normally, yes," Orris said, "but for a sweet thing like you, I'll knock it down to one hundred caps." Amata smiled and batted her eyelashes. "Ooh, big, strong, handsome, _and_ generous. Looks like I hit the jackpot," she said flirtatiously. Orris turned red, and Amata was sure it had nothing to do with the sun beating down on them.

Amata counted out one hundred caps and gave them to Orris. "Ok," he said, "to keep you safe, I need you to follow my instructions to the letter. We'll be heading down the main street the whole way. No detours. You go off sightseeing, and I go off to find another customer. I'll keep a brisk pace, so try not to fall behind." "Of course, Orris. Whatever you say." "Good. Actually, miss, before we leave, I believe I should at least know your name. "Uh…Mack. My name is Susie Mack." "Well, alright Miss Mack, let's be on our way."

(20 minutes earlier, Sierra Madre Villa)

Whoever this third collar was, Mark reasoned, seemed like they didn't really want to be found. There were traps littered all over this part of the villa. He nearly learned that the hard way when he nearly stepped in a bear trap. The only reason that he didn't was he had caught a glint of metal on the ground that was illuminated from one of the lights on the side of a building. There were also a couple of heavily concentrated pockets of the Cloud that blocked the most direct route to the third collar, forcing him to take a more circuitous route. Taking the more indirect route also forced him to encounter more traps, like grenade bouquets and a trip-wire rigged shotgun. Using his knife, he was able to disarm the traps, keeping the grenades, but ditched the shotgun because it was in terrible condition, and only had one shell. The good thing about the traps was that some of the creatures had gotten killed by them. He had found one of the creatures with its leg cut off after it had gotten caught in a bear trap.

Eventually, after encountering one of the creatures that had avoided the traps and killing it, he found himself staring at the side of a building with a large hole that had been blown out of it. Unusually as well, there appeared to be a set of yellow string lights hanging over the hole, and Mark could hear music playing. He had been so intrigued by the lights and music that he barely noticed that one of the creatures with a bear trap on its arm had come up behind him. He turned around and saw a bear trap fist come flying straight for him. He tried to defend himself but was too slow. The bear trap clamped down on the bulletproof vest, ripping a chunk out of it, and the residual force sent Mark sprawling on the cobblestone street, with the holorifle clattered about twenty feet away from him. The creature went for another swing, but Mark rolled out of the way, and the creature got nothing but cobblestone.

Mark scrambled to his feet and fired three shots in quick succession. It staggered back a few feet. Mark got an idea, and dived behind a raised garden plot. He took a grenade off of his belt, took the pin out with his teeth, then threw it at the creatures feet. He then fired another shot before the creature could react, the bullet detonating the grenade prematurely. He ducked back down, waiting for the dust to settle. Bits of the creature rained down, some on him, and he wiped it away in disgust. He waited for a moment, seeing if the noise would attract any other creatures, but none came. He checked his pip-boy. Whoever this collar was, they were where the music was coming from. He collected the holorifle and continued on his way.

He went up a couple of flights of stairs. The music was getting louder as he went up, and finally saw a figure sitting in a red chair, with another chair next to him. Mark looked out of the hole, and there was an excellent view of the Sierra Madre. From the way the figure looked, it appeared that it was a ghoul. He spoke, but not in a raspy voice like other ghouls. This voice was more suave. "Have a seat," he said without turning around, "and then we'll talk." "I'll stand," Mark stated. "Oh no, I _insist."_ Mark warily approached the other chair, a bit uneasy at the way he said "insist." He could see that the ghoul was wearing a pair of sunglasses (although Mark had no idea how they stayed up without ears or a nose) and a pre-war tuxedo. Mark sat down, and regretted it instantly. "Don't make any sudden movements, no matter how uncomfortable that chair gets. The cushion's just for show." Mark saw a detonator in his left hand, his thumb over the trigger.

"That had better be a shape charge I'm sitting on, otherwise you'll kill us both." He sounded a bit impressed, albeit with a slight mocking undertone. "Oh ho, sounds like someone's done some blue collar work in their life. Your ma must be proud." 'I never knew my mother, but thanks.' He continued. "No, I'm not stupid. Just because I work in entertainment, people think I'm an idiot. Get up without my permission, and I'll blast your ass so far through your head, it'll turn the moon cherry-pie red." "That's an interesting turn of phrase," Mark said, "seeing as you can't even see the moon." "It was rhetorical, jackass. Anyway, I know why you're here. I heard my necktie beeping. I know what this means. I'm part of this somehow. I want out of this contract, and if you put me in it, I'm not going to be happy. So whatever's going on here, if you're part of all this, you're taking orders from me now."

"First of all," Mark said, "I didn't put that collar on you. A crazy old man named Elijah did. Secondly, if you kill me, you'll die too. Our collars are all linked, idiot. I die, you die, the others all die." He looked genuinely surprised. "Hmm. They never used to do that." "Look," Mark said, "I'm know I'm not the first person to come here, so let's cut to the chase. I need you to come with me to help the old man get into the casino and some vault." "Of course you do. Just like the others. I bet you want to go home, too. So did the others, until greed took over, and they started sizing each other up for funeral suits." "Look, I don't care about the treasure or whatever else is this supposed vault. I've survived explosions, supposedly lethal doses of radiation, beatings, an entire army's worth of bullets, two of which hit my brain and very nearly killed me. I don't know about the others that came here, but I've survived the worst that the wasteland's had to offer and then some. So why don't you put down that detonator, because we both know you're not going to press that button. I'm guessing you want whatever's in the vault as bad as Elijah does."

He chuckled. "You're a perceptive little shrew, aren't you?" He put the trigger guard in place and tossed the detonator away. Mark exhaled. "Alright," Mark said, "we need to get going. We're using the Villa's police station as a base." "We?" he asked. "Yeah, there's the woman I came here with, her name's Veronica. Then there are two others. One is a nightkin with two personalities, and the other is another woman, Christine, although he inexplicably ripped out her vocal cords, although I still can't figure out why. Then again, he's probably insane." The ghoul stood up. "Alright, let's get this show on the road then. Looks like marriage finally caught up to old Dean Domino." Mark smirked as he sat up. "Sorry to disappoint you, Dean, but I'm already taken. Name's Mark Franklin, by the way." Dean brushed past him. "I didn't ask," he said snidely. Mark inwardly groaned. This was going to be a long walk.

(35 minutes later, Freeside)

A brisk pace her ass. What Orris considered to be a brisk pace was little more than a light jog. Amata had to slow down a few times just to make sure that she didn't end up passing him. As they had made their way down the street, he also felt the need to provide commentary on every landmark that they passed. Like how the Old Mormon Fort was where the Followers of the Apocalypse provided medical attention, not that he ever needed to go there. He also commented that Amata hadn't lived until she had been to the Atomic Wrangler, or that as long as the Kings didn't outnumber her five-to-one, she would be fine. Amata saw the gate to the Strip in the distance, and she started to think that the King may have been wrong, that all of Orris' self-boasting about how tough he was was the only reason people continued to ask for him.

Then, out of nowhere, he suddenly stopped, and Amata nearly bowled him over. "What? Why did we stop?" Orris pointed a little ways down. "I don't like the looks of those men. Let's take another way around." The four men that he was pointing to were all staring at Orris and Amata, and they weren't exactly hiding the fact that they were doing so. Before Amata could question it, Orris broke into a dead sprint down a side street to their left, and then he took a right turn around a partially collapsed building. By the time Amata had followed him and taken that same right turn, Orris was a little ways down the street, and Amata heard three gunshots coming from that direction. By the time Amata caught up to him, he was looking very pleased with himself. "If you had hired one of those other losers, you'd be up to your pretty little ass in lowlife right now. I hope those bastards are enjoying hell right now."

Amata ignored the sexist comment and looked at the bodies. It only took a cursory glance to realize something didn't add up. Then Amata did the last thing that Orris expected her to do; she just burst out laughing. "What's so funny? I just saved your life. You should be thanking me." Amata spoke through the laughter. "You, uh, you really had me going there. You really think that I'm an idiot?" "What are you talking about?" Orris asked, not really liking where this was heading. "My father-in-law was a doctor, and I spent a lot of years in his clinic. I know wounds when I see them. There are no entry or exit wounds, no blood, their chests are still rising and falling, and the fact that you only fired three shots when four people are supposedly dead, makes me think that you staged these attacks to drum up repeat business. You're a fraud."

"Those are some interesting theories you've got, but you should probably keep them to yourself. Let's get going." "Oh, I am gonna get going. Right back to the King." Orris raised his .44 magnum. "I don't think so. I hate to have to have to kill you, but I have no other choice." Amata smirked. "Neither do I. Come on out, guys." ED-E swooped in from above, and Cass came out from the collapsed building, aiming her shotgun at Orris. "Put tha gun down, asshole." Orris looked at Amata. 'You never were an innocent tourist, were you? You were just a spy for the King. Is your name even Susie Mack?" "No," Amata said, "I am the happily married Mrs. Amata Franklin, and I am the furthest thing from an innocent tourist. Aside from my husband, that is. Now, put the gun down." Orris seemed hesitant. Cass quickly fired a shot from her shotgun in the pavement near the thugs, and then pointed it back at Orris. The thugs scrambled to their feet and ran away.

"Now," Cass said, "if ya wanna keep breathin', I suggest ya put tha gun down and kick it over to ma girl over there. Otherwise yer gonna be full a lead an' laser holes in about five, four, three, two,…" Orris raised his hand up in defeat. "Alright, alright, fine." He put the gun on the ground and kicked it to Amata. Amata opened the chamber and ejected the shells. They were all blanks. Amata put the gun in her satchel while Cass searched him for other weapons. She found a switchblade, which she tossed to Amata. "Alright," Orris said, "you caught me. Can I go now?" "I don't know, Cass," Amata said nonchalantly, "do you think we should let him go?" "Nah, it'd be easier ta just kill tha bastard. I haven't shot anyone in a day or so, an' ma trigger finger's gettin' itchy."

"You know what, Cass, I've got a better idea. Let's take him straight to the King. He's very interested in your quote, unquote, "work," Orris, and he's been meaning to make your acquaintance. Now, I was in a bit of an emotional state this morning, so I might not be in the best frame of mind to make decisions. So I'm gonna let you decide, Orris. You die, or you go to the King, and I'll tell him you cooperated with me." Orris contemplated it for a few moments, and then sighed. "Fine, whatever, I'll go to the King." Cass jammed her shotgun into his back. "Good choice. Now get moving, ass fer breath." Orris looked at Amata. "I guess asking you out for a drink is out of the question." Cass jammed the gun even harder into Orris' back. "Shut up an' get movin', 'fore my finger accidentally slips."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. The title of this chapter is meant to reference the King in Freeside, and the fact that Dean Domino was known as "The King of Swing." Until next time, reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**


	43. Chapter 43: The Noblest of Motives

**Author's Note: I sincerely apologize for the three-plus month delay for this chapter. Some family issues coupled with my muse taking an extended vacation are not really conducive to writing. I can promise that it will not be nearly as long for the next update. Thank you for your continued support, and please enjoy the chapter.**

(30 minutes later, Sierra Madre Police Station)

Despite the fact that Dean Domino seemed to be a bit of a stuck-up asshole, Mark managed to start a conversation. Dean was surprised that Vegas managed to survive, saying he might have to see it one day. Dean told him about the man who built the villa and the casino, Frederick Sinclair, and his obsession with Vera Keyes. Dean also told Mark about what happened in the casino the day that the bombs dropped, and how he was able to get out before security sealed the doors. Mark also learned that the radio broadcast that brought Mark and Veronica to that abandoned bunker in the first place was accidentally sent out over the frequency that was only supposed to be used in case of emergencies, although Mark was already aware of that fact.

Dean also turned out to be useful in a fight, using an old police pistol to help mark take out a couple of the villa's inhabitants, which Dean had dubbed, "Ghost People." Mark figured that it was as good a name as any for them. They finally got back to the police station. As he and Dean walked in and Dean closed the door behind them, he felt someone hugging him with a vice-like grip. He doubted it was God/Dog or Christine, so that only left Veronica. "Oh my god Mark, are you okay?" Mark struggled to speak. "Veronica…can't breathe." "Oh, sorry," Veronica said sheepishly. "So, are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. Everyone, this Dean Domino, the last collar. Dean, this is Veronica, Christine, and…" Mark trailed off, not sure which nightkin personality was currently in control. "God," apparently God said. "Right, God."

He looked back at Veronica. Her expression had become indecipherable. "Veronica, are you okay?" She didn't speak, choosing instead to slap him across the face, and then she exploded in anger. "What the hell possessed you to go out there by yourself? Are you really that fucking stupid? Are you purposely trying to make Amata a widow?" "Okay," Mark said a bit indignantly, "this is the second time in two days that you've hit me, so that needs to stop." "Well, I tend to do that when my friend is acting like an idiot. Like yesterday in the damn bunker."

"Look, Veronica, I'm used to being by myself in less-than-hospitable situations. My intent was to keep you safe, and to have a chat with Elijah away from beings who've had past associations with him, and our chat was rather enlightening." Veronica calmed down a bit and bit her bottom lip nervously. "What…what did he say, exactly?" Christine had turned her head slightly, apparently also interested in what Elijah may have said to Mark. Mark debated as to whether he should tell them what Elijah had told him. He decided against revealing it, at least for the moment. It may come in handy later. "Let's just say I know why Christine is tracking him. I'll tell you later. Right now I just want to do whatever the hell it is he wants us to do so we can get the hell out of here and I can get back to my wife." "Mark, if whatever he said had anything to do with me, I deserve to know, and I want to know now." "Yeah," Mark said, "and after all of the shit that I've been through, I _deserve_ to live a quiet, peaceful life with my wife without worrying about dictators or wars or being forcibly taken to some god-forsaken hellhole in the middle of fucking nowhere. Then again, we don't always get what we want in life."

Mark sighed and rubbed his temple, and looked up at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eyes. In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "sometimes I wish I would have just died in that purifier…" "What purifier?" Mark snapped out of his daze. "What? What did you say?" "You said something about a purifier, and I was wondering what you meant." Fear at being discovered flashed across his face briefly, before returning to normal. "I didn't say anything about any purifier." "Yes, yes you did, I just heard…" Mark cut her off. "No, I didn't and stop talking about it." Veronica narrowed her eyes. "Why are you being so pissy all of a sudden? We're all under stress, but you don't see us losing our cool." Mark closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it." Veronica pursed her lips, and decided not to press the issue. "Fine, I'll drop it… _for now,"_ she said, clearly emphasizing the last two words.

Mark looked around the room, and realized that the others were staring at the two of them. Dean, who was leaning up against a desk smoking a cigarette, chuckled and asked, "lover's quarrel?" "Shut up, Dean," Mark and Veronica said at the same time. He chuckled again. "Ah, to be young and in love…" "Dean," Mark said, "we're not a couple. She's a lesbian, and I've got a wife waiting for me back in Vegas." "Could've fooled me," was his response. Christine sent him a death glare, causing him to cower, and thankfully shut his mouth. "Alright, since everyone is here, I'm gonna contact Elijah, unless anyone else has any comments?"

He was met with silence, so he flipped to Elijah's frequency, but before he pressed the button to talk, he looked at God. "How does this work? Does Dog come out when he hears Elijah's voice, or…" Mark trailed off. "Dog will only come back out if Elijah gives him a direct order. Otherwise, I maintain control. Go ahead and get on with it." Mark nodded, and spoke into his pip-boy. "Elijah, we're all here. Go ahead."

(Same time, Freeside)

Cass and Amata brought Orris back to the Kings HQ and handed him off to a couple of the Kings standing outside. The guards took him off somewhere, although where and for what purpose, neither of them had any clue. They went inside and found the King standing in the front room, talking to one of the other Kings. He saw the two of them and went over to greet them. "Amata, Cass," he said jovially, "I've just been informed that Orris has been taken into custody. Can I get either of you a drink?" "Whiskey fer me, please," Cass said. "Water," Amata said a bit curtly, "and before we go any further, King, I believe we have some things to discuss." The King was confused for a moment, before he remembered her parting words from before.

He smiled a bit sheepishly. "Ah, yes, you wanted to talk about those comments that I made. Why don't we go to a more private setting." He eyed ED-E a bit warily. "Maybe that robot could stay down here? No offense, but it's creeping me out a little." "Maybe we should ask ED-E if he wants to stay," Amata said. She turned to ED-E. "ED-E, do you want to stay down here?" ED-E moved side-to-side slightly, as if he was shaking his head. Then an audio recording started playing. It was Mark speaking to ED-E the previous day: "Keep her safe, okay?" "Well, there you go, King, ED-E comes with us." "Umm, very well. Follow me please." They walked through a doorway off to the side of the room and up a couple flights of stairs. The King opened a door to one of the rooms and led them through. It was a fairly large room, with a jukebox, a couple of bookcases, a table and chairs, and a king-sized bed. Also, on the bed there were a couple of ladies wearing very revealing negligees and not much else. One had black hair that went down to her shoulders, and the other had brown hair that went down to her mid-back. The black-haired woman propped herself up on her elbow, and the brunette sat up. The brunette spoke, a bit of a sly smile on her face.

"Hey, King, will these ladies be joining us?" Cass snickered, while Amata raised an eyebrow at the King. The King couldn't help but smile. "No, girls, these ladies and I are here to talk some business, so I'm gonna need the room." They pouted. "Too bad," the black-haired woman said as the girls passed the three of them, heading towards the door, "maybe another time, then." "I'm happily married to a wonderful man, so I think I'll pass," Amata said. "And a very lucky man he is," the brunette said as she looked Amata up and down, before the two girls left the room and shut the door. It was then that Cass burst out laughing. "And what exactly is so funny?" Amata asked. Cass attempted to compose herself. "Nah…it's nothing." Amata shook her head. "Whatever. Can we please get down to business, King?" "Of course. Please, have a seat." Once they were settled, the King spoke.

"So you want to know why I made those comments, right?" "Yes, I do, King. I've been racking my brain, trying to reconcile between the guy that's been very kind to us with the guy who made those awful comments on the radio. Mark told me what you said to Pacer about wanting to create some semblance of order, and that Pacer was ruining it." At this point, Amata's face was a bit red, with a look of confusion, bordering on anger. "Tell me, King, how does calling everyone from the NCR "the devil," help create more order? If you think it does, then that is the most ass backward thing that I've ever heard. So what do you have to say for yourself, King? Come on, I'm waiting, I don't have all god damn day!" She banged a fist on the table, startling both Cass and the King.

Cass put a hand on Amata's shoulder, hoping to calm her down a bit. Amata closed her eyes, took a couple of deep breaths, and was able to calm herself down. It was happening again. One of the side-effects of being pregnant was irritability and mood swings, which could be severe, which would explain why she snapped at the King before he could explain. She had tried to control it, but sometimes it broke free like that. "Sorry, King. Pregnancy hormones. I didn't mean to yell at you like that." The King smiled, and then he spoke. "Don't worry about it. Let me start by saying that I made those comments in anger, and I do regret them. You're also correct in pointing out that I'm hurting my own cause. But to understand where all the tension in Freeside comes from, I think that a bit of a history lesson is in order." He looked Amata in the eye. "When we first met, you said you were new to the area. Where did you live before, if I may ask?" "King, did you hear reports on the radio about a courier being shot in Goodsprings a little while ago?" The King nodded. "Well, Mark and I had been living in Goodsprings for about two, three months, but before that we lived in DC, so you could say that we're both still relatively new to the whole Mojave."

The King then looked at Cass. "What about you, Cass?" Cass took a drink of whiskey. "I've been caravanin' fer as long as I can remember. I've been ta California, Washington, an' everywhere in between. I've heard stories 'bout all sorts a people an' places, although I usually tend ta avoid Freeside an' tha Strip. Neither places are really hospitable places fer conductin' business, 'specially with tha Crimson Caravan operatin' in tha area. Only reason I'm here now is 'cause I met her an' her hubby at tha Mojave Outpost an' they asked a down-on-her-luck caravaner ta come on their little revenge quest, although we've all gotten a bit more than we bargained fer, ain't that right, 'Mata?" Cass slapped Amata lightly on the shoulder. Amata looked at her and smiled. "Yeah, you could certainly say that, Cass." Amata looked back at the King, a smile donning his face. "Sorry King, you were saying something about a history lesson?"

The King cleared his throat, and his face drooped a bit. "Yes, well, years and years ago, before Vegas was as you see it today, there were a bunch of tribes living in the area, ourselves included. We had some scuffles, but for the most part, we got along well, traded for what we needed, help build the walls around Freeside and the Strip. Then, one day, House approaches us via those securitrons of his, asking three tribes to re-open the casinos and help restore Vegas. The three that agreed became the Omertas, the Chairmen, and the White Glove Society. I flat-out refused to join, but I didn't want to leave the area I called home. Some, realizing that they had no chance to fight back, chose to leave the area instead. A couple tried to fight back, and they were, well, systematically eliminated."

At this revelation, Amata gasped. She couldn't believe that someone would be so cruel to uncaringly kill people who were just trying to defend their home. She had come to terms that the wasteland would be different from the vault, but the old-world values that had been passed down since the vault was first sealed still resided in Amata's heart and mind, and she was certain they still existed, maybe to a lesser extent, in Mark. The King continued.

"So House cut off Freeside from the Strip, and we were left to fend for ourselves. All that was left in Freeside were the Kings, and the remnants of the other tribes. Next thing we know, the NCR comes in, negotiates this treaty with House, and then all of these people come from the NCR start coming in to see this wonderful pre-war city. Trouble is, people lose their caps faster than they realize, and then they don't have enough to buy supplies to get back home. They come into Freeside, looking for a handout, but we only have enough supplies for ourselves since the other tribes left. So people resort to stealing, killing, whatever they need to do to survive. The Followers setting up shop helped a bit, but they're struggling from a lack of supplies, too, although word is that they got a very nice donation from your husband recently." Amata smiled and nodded. That was Mark alright, always willing to help someone in need. The King finished his story.

"In the past year or so, the NCR military has been encroaching on Freeside, and some of the locals don't like that, so they start picking fights with soldiers, and people have been getting hurt or dying. The locals blame the NCR, the NCR blames the locals, and we've basically been at a standstill for the past year. That is, until you, your husband and this group of yours came in and started making waves." He paused for a moment and wrung his hands in contemplation. "Yes, I did make those comments, and I do regret them, but they were made in anger. I just wanted you to know where all of this is coming from." Silence reigned in the room as Cass and Amata absorbed the information. Amata eventually broke it.

"Well, it's obvious what you have to do, isn't it, King?" The look on the King's face, as well as Cass', made it obvious that neither of them knew what she meant. "King, you need to make peace with the NCR, starting with telling your boys not to instigate anything with them." "Look, Amata, that's a good idea, in theory, but with the way things are right now, I don't think my boys would listen." "King, you claim that you are trying to bring peace to Freeside, but keeping open hostilities with the NCR is only sowing more discord. You need to extend the proverbial olive branch of peace to the NCR." The King looked a bit pensive, drumming his fingers on the table. Amata tried a different tactic.

"King, one day you're going to die. How do you want to be remembered? Do you want to be remembered as the guy who was an ok leader who was able to just maintain the status quo, or do you want to be remembered as the great leader who was able to improve the lives of everyone in Freeside by bringing peace and stability? The way I see it, those are your only two choices." When the King failed to respond, Amata growled in anger and got up from the table. "Come on, Cass. Let's go. I think we've wasted enough time here." Amata headed for the door, and Cass looked between Amata and the King before slowly getting up. Amata opened the door and began to walk out, when the King called out, "Wait." Amata and Cass looked at him and stopped. "Look," he said, "it's not that I don't want peace. The fact is, the NCR won't even talk to us, much less negotiate anything with us. There's been too much animosity between us."

"You should've just said that, King. I will approach the NCR under a flag of neutrality, and see what can get done. There has to be an NCR officer in charge of the forces in the area. Would you happen to know who it is, King?" "No, I don't. The soldiers don't talk to us, so all I've got are rumors and speculation. Check with Julie. The Followers are on better terms with the NCR. They treat the soldiers sometimes. She can probably give you a name." "Thank you, King."

Amata began to walk out the door, but then she stopped and looked back at the King. "I hope you take what I said about your leadership to heart, King. I intend to raise a family in the area, and I'd prefer it if we didn't have to worry about getting mugged every time we walk though Freeside." With that, Amata walked out, and Cass closed the door behind them. Out in the hallway, as they walked towards the stairs, Amata rubbed her temple. "I really wish I could have a drink right now." Meanwhile, back in the room they just vacated, the King leaned back in his chair and groaned. "I really need a fucking drink," he said to the empty room.

Cass and Amata walked in silence as they made their way to the Old Mormon Fort. "So," Cass said, taking a swig out of her flask, "yer plannin' ta stay in tha area and raise a family? The Strip an' Freeside aren't exactly family-friendly." "Well, that's the point of this endeavor, isn't it? To make Freeside safer? I agree that the Strip isn't family-friendly, but at least it's safe. I mean, I don't know if House just needs Mark until the war is over and then we'll be out on our asses. Even if that does happen, I'm sure there are vacant houses in outer Vegas that Mark and I could fix up. I hope that it doesn't come to pass, though. I'm tired of moving, and I know that Mark is tired of being forcibly removed from the places he's called home." Amata looked a bit downcast at that last statement, knowing that her and her father were mainly responsible for both of those times. Cass looked on in concern, but didn't comment on it.

"Yeah," Cass said, "I hope it doesn't happen to ya, either. I like livin' with y'all, even Boone, Mr. tall, dark an' broody." Amata couldn't help but laugh at that. Cass continued. "What do ya think a yer kid callin' me Auntie Cass? I think it has a nice ring to it." "Well, we could always go with Auntie Rose, or Auntie Rose of Sharon, although that last on might be a bit of a mouthful." "Nah, Auntie Cass sounds loads better. Maybe we could get yer kid ta call Arcade grandpa? And, ya know, maybe when tha kid's older, I can teach 'em how ta drink like a pro." "Yeah, no, you will not be teaching my child or children anything about drinking like you do. No offense, but I'd like them to have fully functioning livers. You may have got your ability for hard drinking from your dad, but neither Mark or I drink that much." "Eh," Cass said, "maybe ya got a point there. I guess Mark told ya about my dear ol' dad?" "Yes, and for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Cass waved it off. "Thanks fer yer sympathy, but it's not necessary, really." There was silence for a minute or two, when Amata spoke. "Speaking of the future, do you plan on getting back into caravanning at some point?" "Maybe. Maybe after this war is over, and after this whole thing with tha Crimson Caravan is settled. Ya know, I've been caravanning fer so long, I haven't really put any roots anywhere since I left home. I'm not gonna lie, I've forgotten how nice it is to have a place ta call home with people who care about ya." "I really do care about you, Cass. I didn't ask you to come with us out of pity." "I know. Mark told me about yer big heart an' all. Speakin' of Mark an' tha future, how many rugrats do ya plan to have?"

"Well, Mark says he wants three, and I was thinking maybe two, but we'll see how things go." "I got another question fer ya," Cass said, "growin' up in tha vault, did ya always know you an' Mark were gonna end up together?" "For the most part, yes. He's handsome, sweet, caring, and he's always been there for me. There was this one time, when we were both ten or eleven, I really don't remember clearly, I had this really high fever and I needed to stay in the vault's clinic overnight for observation and treatment. Mark's dad, he was the chief physician, and his assistant Jonas, told Mark that I would be fine, but he insisted that he stay the entire night, just in case I needed anything. He sat in the chair next to my bed, and when I woke up the next morning, I realized that he was holding my hand. His dad noticed that I was awake, and after I told him how I felt, he told me that Mark had never left my side."

"When I asked why Mark was holding my hand, his dad said that at one point during the night, I guess I had started shaking, and when he came over to see what was wrong, he said I stopped shaking almost immediately, and then he saw that Mark had taken my hand. Before his dad could say a word, Mark told him that it looked like I was having a nightmare, and he just wanted me to know that he was there and that there was nothing to be scared of. Until Mark told me he loved me, that was the most romantic thing I ever heard. And the thing is, he was right. Holding his hand, I did feel safe. It just felt…right, like everything was okay in the world." Amata smiled brightly as she remembered what had transpired that night/ early morning. "Then there was this one time when I let my foolish pride almost cost me the best thing in my life."

"What happened?" Cass asked. Amata paused for a moment, thinking on how to phrase this. "There was a…situation where Mark was forced to leave the vault, and I couldn't leave with him. After a while, he came back to help, but there were circumstances that necessitated him leaving the vault for good. My dad had been in charge the first time, but I was in charge the second time, and I was the one who told him he had to leave. Before he left, we had a fight, and I thought that I would never see him again."

"You have to realize something, Cass. My dad had groomed me to take over as overseer for the vault one day, and he drilled into me that when making a decision, you need to take emotion out of it, and think things through logically, so that's what I did when I told Mark to leave, and I couldn't understand why he was so mad at me. It took me a week to realize that all my life I had let my head overrule my heart. So for once, I told my brain to shut up, and for once, I listened to my heart, and it told me what my brain refused to: that I was head-over-heels in love with Mark Franklin, and I always had been. So I basically told the vault to go to hell, found him, we declared our love for each other, came out here, he got shot in the head, we found you and everyone else, and you know the rest." She paused for a moment. "I was lucky, Cass. If I had waited just _one_ more day to go find him, I know for a fact that I would never have seen him again, because he would've already left DC." Amata took a deep breath. That had taken a lot out of her. Cass, who had been listening intently, could only manage a "huh," before they reached the Old Mormon Fort.

They spoke to Julie Farkas briefly, which revealed that the highest-ranking officer in Freeside was a Major Elizabeth Kieran, and that she was most likely at an old building on the other side of Freeside, handing out food to NCR civilians. The three of them were on their way over there, ED-E keeping a lookout from above. They were walking in silence, both lost in their own thoughts about their earlier conversation. Cass was wondering what this "situation" in the vault was, and figuring that there was a lot more to the story. Amata, however, was wondering if she had revealed too much. Mark wanted what happened in DC to stay in the past, and Amata understood why. He never wanted the fame that had been thrust upon him. He wasn't a glory-seeker by any stretch of the imagination. He was just a kid who wanted to find his dad.

As they were passing an abandoned, partially collapsed building, Amata heard what sounded like someone sniffling, like they had been crying. Amata motioned to Cass to remain silent, and to wait while she checked it out. She readied her rifle and looked into the dilapidated building. Hunched up in the corner was a small girl, who looked no older than six or seven. She was Caucasian, had shoulder-length blonde hair, was wearing ratty clothes, and what looked like a cut on her right cheek. She had a fair amount of dirt on her face, and she had her knees pulled up to her face, and had her arms wrapped around her legs. It did look like she had been crying. On the ground near her was a 9 mm pistol.

Amata turned the corner of the building slowly and spoke in a gentle voice. "Are you okay?" The girl's head shot up in fear, and she immediately grabbed the pistol and aimed it at Amata, although her hand was shaking badly. "What-what do you want? L-leave me alone! Don't- don't come any closer or-or I'll shoot!" Amata doubted that the girl would be able to hit her with the way her hand was shaking, but Amata slowly put her rifle and pistol on the ground anyway, and raised her hands slightly to show she was unarmed. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanted to see if you were okay. You're hurt and it sounds like you've been crying." "I'm fine!" she screamed. "Just leave me alone!" Amata looked in the girl's eyes. They were an emerald green, but they didn't have any spark in them, like she had seen something traumatizing. She had seen the same look in Mark's eyes when he came back to the vault.

Amata realized that she would have to build some modicum of trust with the girl before she would be able to help her. "My name is Amata Franklin. Can you tell me your name?" The girl looked at Amata for a few moments before responding. "A-Abigail Fields." Amata smiled. "That's a very pretty name. Abigail, I noticed that you have a cut on your cheek, and it looks like need to be treated. I want to help you, but I'm gonna need you to put down the gun." Abigail shook her head vigorously. Amata pursed her lips, and thought for a moment. Then, she got an idea. She put down her satchel bag and started to look through it. She was glad that she had mistakenly put this in here from her duffel bag and forgot to take it out.

Amata pulled out a somewhat worn looking teddy bear. One of its eyes was missing, but otherwise it was in decent shape for being two-hundred plus years old. Abigail's eyes widened a bit when she saw it. "His name's Teddy. My father gave this to me when I was little. He used to make me feel safe when I was scared. Now I keep him just to remind me of my dad, because I have someone else who makes me feel safe. But right now, I think that you could use him more than I could." Amata approached Abigail slowly and held it out towards the small girl. She looked at it for a couple of moments, before tossing the gun away and grabbing the bear, squeezing it for all it was worth. Amata picked up the gun, unloaded it, and put the gun and ammo in her satchel. Amata squatted down to get on the same eye level as Abigail. "You can keep that, Abigail. Now, would it be alright if I take a look at that cut?" Abigail nodded. "Good. I also have a couple of friends with me. Would you like to meet them?" "O-o-okay," Abigail responded.

"Cass, ED-E, could you guys come in here, please?" Cass walked in cautiously, and ED-E flew in, and headed straight for Abigail. Abigail looked at ED-E in astonishment, and reached out to touch him, before quickly withdrawing her hand. "It's okay," Amata said gently, "you can touch him. I promise he won't hurt you." Abigail reached out and touched ED-E lightly on the chassis. He beeped, and for the first time, Amata saw Abigail smile. Amata smiled as well. "See? He likes you, and believe me, he is a _very_ good judge of character. Alright, I'm gonna take a look at that cut now. Can you turn your head for me?" Abigail turned her head, and Amata examined the cut. "Ok, it doesn't look that deep, and it looks like it should heal completely." She looked through her satchel again, and pulled out a bottle with a clear liquid in it, and a white towel. "What's that?" Cass asked, indicating the bottle. "It's rubbing alcohol, and no, it's not drinkable alcohol. It's used to disinfect wounds. It was in a closet in our bathroom. I don't think a stimpak is necessary here."

Amata poured a bit of the rubbing alcohol onto the towel, and looked back at Abigail. "Abigail, this is gonna sting, but just for a few seconds, and I promise you'll feel better afterwards. Do you trust me?" Abigail looked at the teddy bear, and then looked back at Amata and nodded. She closed her eyes and held the bear close to her. Amata slowly dabbed the alcohol on the wound. Abigail winced, but it quickly passed. Amata taped some gauze over the wound. "Now, Abigail, if you don't mind me asking, do you know where your parents are?" Abigail looked down, and tears were forming in her eyes. "Abigail, are your parents, well, um, are they dead?" Amata didn't really want to ask that, but the more she knew about the situation, the better. Abigail nodded. "How long have you been out here?" Abigail held out four fingers. "Four days?" Abigail nodded again. "Ok, I won't ask what happened. Are you hungry? Thirsty?" "Y-yes." Amata assumed that she was. She took out some water and a Fancy Lads Snack Cake, and handed them to Abigail. Abigail put the teddy bear down cautiously, like it was going to disappear if she let go of it.

"I'm just gonna talk to my friends for a minute. I'll be right back, okay?" She nodded. Cass and Amata walked about ten feet away, and began talking quietly. "We need to take her to the Followers. I think she has a twisted ankle." "What about that thing yer doin' fer tha King?" "Cass, the mission I'm on right now is to make Freeside a better place, and I believe doing this furthers that goal. The world is full of enough pain and suffering. I'm not just gonna leave her here and be the cause of more of it." Just then, her pip-boy beeped, and a message appeared from ED-E. It was another quote:

" _Helping to better the lives of others is the greatest of all achievements."_

 _Alan Shawn Feinstein_

"You see? I couldn't have said it better myself, ED-E. She is a scared little girl whose parents just died, probably killed, and she's been on her own for four days. I refuse to turn my back on her." Amata walked back over to Abigail, who had finished with the water and the snack cake. "Abigail, your right ankle hurts, correct?" She nodded. "Okay, I want to take you to see some doctor friends of mine, but I'm gonna need to carry you. Is that okay?" She nodded. Amata holstered her rifle on her back, and swung her satchel over her shoulder. Abigail picked up the bear, and let Amata help her up. Amata picked up Abigail, and Abigail put her arms around Amata's neck. Amata made sure that she was comfortable holding her before they set off. "Cass, lead the way. ED-E, watch the rear."

They made it back to the Old Mormon Fort without any issues, and they were able to get Julie to examine Abigail. Cass stayed outside the tent, but Abigail insisted that Amata stay while she was being examined. When Julie was finished with her examination, she asked to speak to Amata in private. Abigail didn't want Amata to leave, but told her she would be right back, and had ED-E come in to keep her company. Cass joined the two of them as they walled a little ways away from the tent. "Ok," Julie said, "she has a slightly sprained ankle. Fortunately, it's not that serious. It should heal in a week, and she can stay until then." "And then after that?" Amata asked. Julie looked hesitant. "Amata, she seems like a nice girl, but this clinic, we don't have the resources to care for anyone long-term. What about her parents?" "She said her parents were dead, and she's been living on the street for four days. So, what, you're just gonna send her back out there, aren't you?" Amata said, becoming increasingly upset.

Julie sighed. "Amata, I don't like it any more than you do, but until things improve around here, it's just the way it is. I'm sorry." Cass asked Julie a question, but Amata wasn't paying attention anymore. She was looking pointedly at the tent where Abigail was. She could hear some music, and Abigail was laughing. Abigail Fields, the girl who was now an orphan. Mark, she mused, knew the pain of losing your only remaining family when his dad died. It had affected him deeply, as he had confessed to her. It had affected her, too. She knew his dad about as well as he did, and she had cried for a couple days when she heard that James had died. She made up her mind, and she knew that if Mark was here, he would make the same decision. And if not, then, well, he was just going to have to live with it.

She walked with purpose back to the tent. ED-E was circling around Abigail's head, and Abigail was trying to touch him from her seated position. "Abigail, can I talk to you for a minute? ED-E, could you wait outside?" ED-E beeped, and flew out into the courtyard. Amata came down to Abigail's eye level. "Abigail, my friend Julie says that your ankle is sprained, but you should be as good as new in a week." Abigail looked down at her feet and frowned. "Abigail, what's wrong?" "What happens after that? My parents are dead. Where am I supposed to go?" She grabbed the teddy bear and started crying, breaking Amata's heart. Amata pulled her into a hug. Abigail tensed up for a moment, but then she relaxed. "Shh, shh, Abigail, please, don't cry. I wanted to talk to you about that." Abigail stopped crying, and Amata pulled back and looked her in the eye.

"You-you did?" "Yes, Abigail. You see, my husband and I, we're starting a family. Right now, I'm pregnant with his child." Abigail's eyes briefly flicked down to Amata's stomach. "Abigail, I-no we- we would like to adopt you. We'd like you to become a part of that family." The small girl's eyes widened, wondering if this was real. "Are-are you serious?" "Abigail, I am very serious. Now, we would never try to replace your parents. They will always be your parents, and you will always have your own special memories of them. But, if you choose to live with us, we would take care of you like a parent would, and maybe, in time, you would consider us to be family." "Wh-where do you live?" "Somewhere very safe, I promise. Come on, I can show you from here." She picked up Abigail, and brought her outside. She saw Cass looking at her out of the corner of her eye.

Amata pointed towards the Strip. "Do you see that large, red building in the distance?" Abigail nodded. "That's the Lucky 38 Casino on the Strip. That's where my husband and I live, with some other friends of ours. We can keep you safe and healthy there, I can promise you that." She looked Abigail in the eyes. "Abigail, do you want to be a part of our family?" Abigail nodded a couple of times, and started crying again. Amata pressed Abigail's head into the crook of her neck, as she started to cry as well. "You'll never be alone again, Abigail," she whispered in the young girls ear.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. That was a nice, warm, fuzzy moment at the end, wasn't** **it? This was the longest chapter that I've written, an apology of sorts for making you guys wait. Until next time (Again, I promise that it will not be a three month wait again).**


	44. Chapter 44: Sing Me a Song

**Author's Note: It has now been over a year since I first published this story, and I would like to thank each and every one of you for your support. Whether it was a follow, favorite, or just reading for your enjoyment, or any combination thereof, it's been a hell of a ride thus far, and we still have a very long way to go until this story is concluded. I also have ideas for a sequel, once the time comes. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**

As they made their way back to the Lucky 38, the three non-robotic beings that were part of their quartet were all experiencing different emotions regarding the situation that they now found themselves in. Cass' emotions cycled between curiosity and amusement, mainly wondering how Mark would react when he got back from wherever the hell he was and was told that he now has a daughter. She wondered if he would be shocked into silence, or, and Cass was kind of hoping for this one, if he would actually pass out from the aforementioned shock.

For Abigail, she was still trying to figure out if this was real, or just some wonderful dream that she was going to wake up from, huddled back in the corner of that building. She squeezed her teddy bear close to her, silently praying that this was real. Finally, Amata, who was still carrying Abigail, was dealing with the most complex combination of emotions of the three. She was feeling the same emotions as when she found out and told Mark about her pregnancy. She was nervous, excited, and scared, and the hormones running through her body were only increasing the severity of those emotions exponentially. She had hoped to work through and get a better handle on how exactly she felt by the time the baby was due to arrive sometime in July.

She figured that eight months would be enough time to sort through everything, but that had been thrown out the window when she made the decision to adopt Abigail; forget eight months, she was a mother now. That meant it was now up to her (and Mark, when he came back from wherever he was) to help Abigail though the trauma of dealing with her parents deaths. The psychological aspect of the vault rebellion had been trying on her and the others, especially dealing with the deaths of everyone the day Mark and his dad escaped. She and Mark had talked, and it had been cathartic for both of them to talk about what happened.

Abigail had yet to tell her how her parents died, and Amata was not going to press her for that information, but based on how scared and jumpy Abigail was, mixed with her own gut feelings, Amata surmised that it was very bad. Hopefully, once they developed a better rapport, the young girl would open up and tell her. Amata decided to talk to Arcade about this. He had been with the Followers for a while, and seemed like a very educated man. He had probably dealt with children at some point, and she hoped he had some advice on how to deal with this.

They came upon the gates to the Strip, and Abigail tensed up when they got close to the Securitrons. Amata felt her tense up and rubbed the girl's back. "It's okay," Amata said softly, "they're not gonna hurt you." Abigail relaxed slightly. Walking into the Strip and into the Lucky 38 had Abigail looking around in wonder, and for a few moments, all of her troubles and pain disappeared. They made their way into the elevator in silence, and after Amata assured Abigail that the noises that the elevator was making were normal, the ride up was peaceful. The elevator finally stopped at the Presidential Suite, and when the door opened, they stepped out. Amata took a few steps in, stopped, and looked at the small girl in her arms. "Welcome home, Abigail," Amata said, smiling at her. Abigail looked around. The surprises, it seemed, would never stop coming today, and she couldn't help but smile.

"This is so cool! You guys seriously live here?" Both Cass and Amata chuckled at the girls enthusiasm. "Yes," Amata said, "we live here, and now so do you, which means that you are going to need your own room." "I get my own room? I've never had my own room before." "Of course you do," Amata said, "everyone needs a space that they can call their own." They headed down the hallway, when Arcade came out of the kitchen, looking at some notes on a clipboard. He looked up at them briefly, then looked back at his notes, and then back at the group, noting the small girl in Amata's arms.

"And who would this be?" Arcade asked, indicating Abigail. Before Amata could speak, Cass did. "She's tha newest member of our merry band a misfits an' weirdoes." Amata slapped Cass lightly on the arm. "Hush, Cass. Arcade, this lovely young lady is Miss Abigail Fields. I, I mean we, that is, Mark and I, sort of, adopted her. Abigail, this is our friend Arcade Gannon. He's a doctor, like Julie." "Hello, Mr. Gannon," Abigail said softly. Arcade smiled. "Such a polite girl. It is very nice to meet you, Abigail. Please feel free to call me Arcade. Mr. Gannon was my father." Abigail nodded. Arcade looked around the hallway. "Where is Mark, by the way? I haven't seen him since yesterday."

Amata and Cass looked at each other for a couple of seconds, and then Amata looked back at Arcade. "We'll talk later, Arcade. I need to get Abigail settled, okay?" Arcade looked at Amata with a raised eyebrow, sensing something was up, but he didn't press at the moment. "Of course. Do you need any help with her?" "Could you go downstairs to the clothing stores and get her some clothes. Get a few different sizes so we can figure out what fits her. Oh, and maybe a wheelchair or some crutches. Her ankle's twisted and she's gonna need a way to get around until it heals." He nodded. "Absolutely. I shall return." Cass joined him, saying that she had better taste in clothing than some old fuddy-duddy doctor.

Amata went to one of the spare bedrooms. She opened the door and turned on the light with her free hand, and then carefully laid Abigail on the bed. They sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Amata shook herself out of her stupor. "Okay, Abigail, I think that the first order of business is to get you cleaned up, so I'm gonna get a bath started for you." Abigail furrowed her brow. "A bath?" Amata was confused for a moment, before she realized that the girl had probably never seen a functioning bathtub. "Yes, a bath. It's like going swimming in an extremely small lake, with the added bonus of clean, non-irradiated water. Trust me, it'll get you clean, and it is extremely relaxing." Amata went in the bathroom, and Abigail could hear rushing water. Amata came back in the room and sat on the bed. "Okay, it'll take a few minutes for the tub to fill up. So I was wondering, while we wait, if you would like to ask me any questions. Anything at all." The young girl looked a bit apprehensive as she opened her mouth, but she quickly closed it.

"Abigail, you can ask me any question you want. I promise I won't get upset." "Promise?" "I promise, Abigail. Please, ask." "Why are you helping me? Why me?" That question gave Amata pause, as no immediate answer came to her. She thought for a few moments, and then took one of Abigail's hands in one of her own. "That is a very good question, Abigail, and a very valid one." She took a deep breath, and looked Abigail square in the eyes. "My husband and I, we grew up in a place where the values of the old world were passed down from generation to generation. Chief among those, in my opinion, is that everyone needs someone to care for them, to love them, to be there for them when they need help. You lost that when your parents died. When we found you, and when I looked into your eyes, I could feel the longing in your heart to feel that love again."

"As I look into your eyes now, I see hesitancy, like you think that this is some sort of dream, or that I am going to change my mind. Believe me, Abigail, this is not a dream, and I will never change my mind. When I told you that you would never be alone again, I meant it, with all of my heart." She paused for a moment. "There is a saying, that there will come a time when we must choose between doing what is easy, and doing what is right. The easy thing would have been to walk right by you, and never look back. My husband, he has always done what is right, even if it nearly kills him to do so, and so would I. I believe that adopting you, and giving you a home, is the right thing to do. Raising a child may not be easy, but nothing worth doing in life ever is."

By the time Amata finished speaking, Abigail had a beaming smile on her face, one that Amata could not help but return. "Okay," Amata said, "the bath should be ready now. Come on." About twenty minutes later, Amata carried Abby (they had talked somewhat while Abigail was in the bath, and Amata found out that she preferred to be called Abby, her middle name is Celeste, that she was seven, and that her birthday was May 29th. Abigail had asked where Amata's husband was, but Amata sidestepped the question) back into the room, clad in only a towel. She had been reluctant to get into the tub at first, until Amata proved that the water wasn't radioactive using the Geiger counter on her pip-boy. When they came back out, there was a variety of girls clothing laid out on the bed, with a set of crutches up against the wall. Amata got her dried off, and dressed her in a pair of navy blue sweatpants and a pink short sleeved shirt with a green and yellow flower on it. Amata then put the remainder of the clothing in a dresser, and threw the rags that Abby had been wearing into the trash.

Amata noticed that Abby seemed to be rubbing her eyes. "Are you tired, Abby?" The small girl nodded a couple of time. Amata shut the blinds on the window to keep out the sun, tucked Abby into bed, and gave her the teddy bear to snuggle with. Amata then lightly kissed Abby on the forehead. "Have a good nap, Abby. Call me if you need anything." Amata got up to leave, when Abby asked her a question. "Could you sing to me, Mrs. Franklin? (how she would address Amata also been discussed in the bath. Amata secretly hoped, in time, that she would eventually call her "Mom")" "Sing to you?" Amata asked. Abby looked down at the blanket, frowning. "My mom used to sing to me to help me fall asleep, but if you don't want to, I understand." Amata knew that there was no way she would be able to reject that request.

Amata sat down on the bed, thinking of what she should sing. She smiled when she thought of the perfect song. When she was younger, she had found a holotape in one of the rooms used for storage in the vault when she and Mark were doing some exploring. She loaded the song onto her pip-boy, and she was so enthralled by it that she listened to it incessantly, and she still knew the words by heart. She cleared her throat and began to sing:

" _Over in Kilarney, many years ago,_

 _My mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low_

 _Just a simple ditty, in her good ol' Irish way,_

 _And I'd give the world if she could sing_

 _That song to me this day_

 _Too-ra-lor-ra-lor-ra, too-ra-lor-ra-li_

 _Too-ra-lor-ra-lor-ra, hush now don't you cry_

 _Too-ra-lor-ra-lor-ra, too-ra-lor-ra-li_

 _Too-ra-lor-ra-lor-ra , that's an Irish lullaby_

 _Oft in dreams I wander to that cot again_

 _I feel her arms a huggin' me_

 _As when she held me then_

 _And I hear her voice a hummin'_

 _To me as in days of yore_

 _When she used to rock me to sleep_

 _Outside her cabin door…"_

Unbeknownst to Amata and Abby, Cass and Arcade stood in the doorway listening, having heard Amata's melodious voice carry in the hallway.

" _Tor-ra-lor-ra-lor-ral_

 _Tor-ra-lor-ra-li_

 _Tor-ra-lor-ra-lor-ral_

 _Hush now don't you cry_

 _Tor-ra-lor-ra-lor-ral_

 _Tor-ra-lor-ra-li_

 _Tor-ra-lor-ra-lor-ral_

 _That's an Irish lullaby."_

Amata watched as Abby's eyes began to droop and eventually close as she came to the end of the song. For a few moments, Amata stared at Abby, watching her chest rise and fall, a contented look on the young girl's face. Amata gave her another kiss on the forehead and whispered softly, "sweet dreams, Abby." She got off the bed and headed towards the door, being startled briefly when she noticed Cass and Arcade in the doorway. Amata put a finger to her lips, indicating to them to be silent. She closed the door quietly and faced them. "How long were you guys standing there?" "Since about halfway through the song, or thereabouts," Arcade replied. "You have a very lovely singing voice, by the way."

Amata blushed and waved it off. "Oh, I'm not that good." "I disagree," Arcade said. "In fact, I believe that your voice could pacify even the most hostile raider." "Yeah, ya got a nice set a pipes on ya," Cass said, lightly slapping Amata on the back. "Thanks for the compliments, guys. Oh, and thanks for getting those clothes and the crutches." "Ah, don't mention it. I'm glad I went down, though. This ol' fossil had picked out some clothes that were as ugly as shit." "Cass, language," Amata said, "there's a kid here now, so you're gonna need to tone down the swearing. In fact, let's go into the kitchen and away from her door."

"C'mon, 'Mata," Cass said as they entered the kitchen, "ya really think that tha kid hasn't heard swearin' before?" "She probably has, but I don't care. You will tone down the swearing in front of my child." She glared at Cass, who looked at Arcade hoping for support, but Arcade wasn't getting in the middle. "Never get between a mama bear and her cub, Cass," he stated matter-of-factly. "Alright, ya win. I'll try not ta swear in front of tha rugrat. Jus' don't expect me ta quit cold turkey." She took a drink out of her flask. "If ya need me, I'll be across the street at Gomorrah. Need to relieve some stress, if ya catch my drift. I don't think _they_ would mind if I swear." With that, Cass left the kitchen, and a few moments later, they heard the elevator door open and close.

"So," Arcade said as they both sat down at the kitchen table, "how did…" he vaguely gestured towards Abby's room, a hint of curiosity in his voice, "you meet Abby?" Amata told him about her meeting with the King, omitting the part where she yelled at him, about talking to Julie about Major Kieran (Arcade knew of Major Kieran and her work, saying he would have suggested the same thing), about finding Abby in the abandoned building, treating her cut, bringing her to the Followers, and her decision to adopt her. Once Amata finished, Arcade was silent for a few moments as he absorbed the information.

"That was a very nice thing that you did for that girl, Amata. Not many people would just adopt an orphan off of the street after knowing her for about an hour or so, much less at all. You and Mark, you two are certainly shaking things up around here. How is Mark reacting to having a daughter? He seems like the kind of guy who would be overjoyed at that prospect." Amata looked out the door that led out to the balcony, not answering Arcade's question. "Amata?" Still no answer. "Amat-" "He doesn't know, Arcade," Amata burst out, interrupting. Arcade was confused. "How does Mark not know? I thought you and Mark adopted her."

"I adopted her, and since Mark is my husband, he is her adoptive father by default, so technically, yes, we adopted her. It doesn't matter. He's going to be fine with it." "And you know that for a fact?" Arcade replied. Amata sighed. "Arcade, did you know that one of Mark's deepest desires is to have a family?" "I did not," Arcade replied. "Growing up, Mark didn't have any brothers or sisters. His dad was his only blood relative. Sure, my dad tried to say that the entire vault was one big happy family, but that was a load of idealistic nonsense. Mark didn't really get along with any of the other kids, besides myself. They weren't mean to him, well, except for the Tunnel Snakes that is. They were just immature assholes. The rest of them were just wary and indifferent. Neither of us really knew why until about five, six months ago." Arcade was curious. "What happened all those months ago?" Arcade asked. Amata turned and looked at him. "A lot of things happened, Arcade, but it's not my story to tell, and honestly, Mark wants to leave the past where it is. I hope you understand."

Arcade nodded. He understood more than most about wanting to leave things in the past. "Believe me, Amata, I understand, more than you can possibly imagine." 'Doubtful,' Amata thought. "So where is Mark, exactly? And Veronica, for that matter. I haven't seen either of them since yesterday. Do you know where they are?" "No," Amata replied simply. It was the truth, but Amata didn't really feel like expanding that statement. "Couldn't you just check your pip-boy to see where he is?" Amata said nothing and continued to look out the window. All of a sudden, it seemed like the entirety of the day's events caught up with her, and she realized just how extremely tired she was. "I'm going to take a nap, Arcade. Come get me if Abby needs anything, please." Amata walked out of the kitchen, leaving a confused Arcade in her wake.

(Hour-and-a-half later, Sierra Madre)

Elijah had explained to the group what needed to be done and where everyone needed to be stationed. Christine was needed at a switching station in Puesta del Sol to reroute the Villa's power to activate the Gala Event to open the casino. This made sense to Mark, as neither Dean nor Dog/God had the computer skills necessary to pull off that part. Mark also wondered briefly about when Elijah discovered that Veronica was with him. Veronica seemed capable about doing that part, so theoretically they could have skipped finding Christine in the first place. Not that he would have wanted to condemn Christine to such a fate in the first place, but still. Then he remembered that Elijah was insane, so logic went out the window.

There was also a station with switches that needed to be pulled in the correct order, located in Salida del Sol South. Elijah suggested that they should use the nightkin for this part, as the switches were likely rusty. There was also a loose wire in Puesta del Sol South that needed to be reconnected. Dean was the candidate for this job, likely as the odd man out. When Elijah explained this part, Dean started to complain, until Mark pointed his pistol at Dean without looking at him. Fortunately for Dean, he understood that to mean shut the hell up, and he did so, forgetting that if he died, everyone else did as well.

Finally, Mark would be needed to trigger the gala event. The switch to do so was located in a bell tower in Salida del Sol North. Veronica wasn't given a specific assignment, but Mark figured that she would either stay with him or Christine, and he was leaning more towards Christine at the moment. Veronica had initially suggested that Mark escort them one at a time, which would attract less attention from the ghost people. Mark agreed that her logic was sound, but he said that he had no intention of staying in this place one second longer than he absolutely had to, so it was decided that they would travel as a group. There was that saying about having strength in numbers, after all.

They brought God to his location first. They had encountered some ghost people along the way, which they were able to put down easily, thanks in large part to God, while not fully used to the brute's body, was nevertheless effective. He also ate some chunks off of the ghost people, which made Mark, and he assumed the others, sick to their stomachs. God explained that this would help keep Dog at bay, which Mark decided was a good thing. Mark also decided that he would starve to death before he ate one of those things.

They then brought Dean to the location where the wire needed to be reconnected. Elijah had stated that the wire needed to be connected at the same time as the gala event was triggered, otherwise it would draw on the power too early and the Gala Event could not start. Even after they had activated a couple of security holograms in the area, Dean still complained. It took some convincing and threats of physical violence before Dean agreed to stay, although they still heard some grumbling as they walked away.

Now they were on their way to the switching station where Christine was needed. They were walking in silence, after taking care of some ghost people ten minutes prior. They had gotten scratched up a bit, and thankfully avoided getting blown up with some type of improvised gas bomb. Mark wasn't exactly sure how they were able to create improvised explosive devices when they didn't seem that intelligent and seemed to have limited motor skills. The spears and bear trap fists he could understand, i.e. taping the knives together, using the hinge on the bear trap. The bombs, however, needed some type of chemical reaction.

Something else that he wasn't really sure of was why the hell Veronica kept looking at him every ten seconds or so. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore and called out for them to stop. Christine looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and Veronica had asked why they stopped. "Why do you keep looking at me?" Mark asked. "What?" "Every ten goddamn seconds, like clockwork, you turn your head and look at me. Why? And don't deny it." "Mark, I'm concerned about you." "Well, you don't need to be. I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself." "Mark, something's going on with you. You wouldn't tell me what Elijah told you and you got all upset at the police station, and you threatened Dean unnecessarily twice. I want to help you, but you need to tell me what's wrong."

Mark scowled. "Like I said, I'm fine. We need to get going. We've stood here too long, and I don't need your psychoanalyzing getting us all killed." "Fine," Veronica said, and the continued on their way. 'God knows how Amata puts up with him when he gets like this,' Veronica thought. She had a hunch that he was upset about being separated from Amata, although from what she could hypothesize, they had been separated before. Something had likely happened back east, because from the way they told it, they had been nigh inseparable since they came to the Mojave.

Months ago, during one of her brief forays back into the bunker, she discovered that the east coast chapter was in town for a visit, which Veronica learned later was an attempt at reconciliation. She didn't have access to any of the official records of the meetings, but she learned that they spoke of an outsider who had joined the Brotherhood unofficially, and had done some amazing things. They never referred to him by name, only calling him the "Lone Wanderer," which apparently was his condition for them mentioning him at all. This "Lone Wanderer" had done such things as single-handedly destroying a massive raider encampment, blowing up an enclave base, and even befriending a super mutant. Hell, he had apparently even helped co-author a book.

Wanting to gather some information for her personal quest, she spoke to some of the east coast brotherhood members. They spoke in reverent tones about the kid, but she could not get a name out of any of them, most likely due to the high regard they held him in. There was one person that she had spoken to that stood out above the rest. What was her name again? Lyons? Yeah, that was it, Sentinel Sarah Lyons, daughter of the Elder of the east coast chapter. She was the one who had spoken of him the highest, swearing that he had done the impossible when all hope had seemed lost. The way she spoke about him, Veronica had the feeling that Sarah harbored some romantic feelings for him.

When asked about this, Sarah had said that had been some moments between them, but there was a woman that he often spoke of (also not spoken of by name), one who was back in the vault that he came from, whom he had spoken about constantly. Whenever he had spoken of her, a big smile would be on his face. She would have liked to pursue something romantic with him, but she realized that his heart belonged to someone else.

Months later, Veronica had met Mark and Amata, two people who had come from a vault on the east coast, and two people who rarely spoke about their past. She realized that she was lucky to have gotten that Mark worked with the Brotherhood out of him. The big surprise was when he revealed that he had Brotherhood holotags. With McNamara wanting to speak to an outsider in private, coupled with the encrypted files on his pip-boy, along with everything else, Veronica had come to one logical conclusion: Mark Franklin was this mysterious "Lone Wanderer." The problem that she had was that all of her evidence was circumstantial, and if she flat out accused him, he would likely deny it, and she had tried to get Amata to talk more about back east but she wasn't talking either. One thing that Veronica had in spades was patience. He'd either tell them, or she'd find irrefutable proof of it. She could wait.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I hope you all have a happy holiday season, no matter what holiday you celebrate, or if you don't celebrate any holidays at all. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**


	45. Chapter 45: Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is doing well. Just an update on where the story is going. I plan to wrap up the Sierra Madre portion of the story within the next couple of chapters. Enjoy this chapter, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**

Amata was having a very pleasant dream. She knew that it was a dream because she was standing in a grassy meadow with rolling hills, and she was pretty sure that this type of place no longer existed in the world. It was sunny, and there was a very refreshing breeze swirling around her. She was wearing a light blue sundress, her hair was flowing freely around her face, and, strangely enough, she was not wearing any shoes, nor was her pip-boy anywhere in sight. She looked around to see if there was anyone else with her, when she saw three people walking towards her.

In the middle was a grown man holding the hands of two children. Amata's face lit up when she realized that the man was Mark. He looked a bit older, and was not wearing any armor, nor carrying any type of weapons. He also was not wearing his pip-boy, and he and the children were not wearing shoes either. Mark was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. The child to Mark's right was a young girl, looking about twelve or thirteen years old, wearing a sleeveless yellow t-shirt with a matching yellow skirt. Amata realized that the girl was Abby, although she was no longer a little girl, but on the brink of becoming a teenager. She was going to be a knockout when she grew up; there was no doubt about that.

Amata looked at the other child on Mark's left, who was wearing a navy blue t-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. For a moment, she could have sworn she was looking at Mark when he was five or six, but it couldn't be Mark because he was standing in the middle of the three. Her brain froze for a second, and she unconsciously put a hand on her stomach. Was this child her son? Was this the child that she was currently pregnant with? She was broken out of her reverie when she heard Mark say, "Abby, James, go give your mother a hug." Mark let go of the children's hands as they ran over to Amata. Amata crouched down and engulfed both children in a hug.

It felt so warm, so…perfect, that tears of joy streamed down her face, and her smile threatened to split her face in two. She looked at Mark, and he was smiling as well. The two children broke off the hug. She looked at Abby. "I love you, Mom. Thank you for adopting me." "I love you too, Abby, and you don't have to thank me." She kissed Abby on the cheek. She then looked at her apparent son. Upon closer inspection, although he did look like Mark, the eyes were the same shade of hazel as her own. He was definitely their son. "I love you, Mommy." Amata kissed him on the forehead. "I love you too, James, my handsome little man." Amata didn't care that this was a dream. This was probably the happiest that she had ever felt in her entire life. She could feel so much love that her heart felt like it was close to bursting.

"Hey, how about some love for the handsome big man?" Amata laughed and let go of the children, and then walked over to Mark. "Of course," Amata said, "how could I forget the 'big man'?" "Handsome, don't forget handsome as well," Mark said as they put their foreheads together and looked deeply into each other's eyes. "I seem to be very forgetful today," Amata said, "but one thing that I will never forget is how much that I love you." They began to kiss, their tongues dueling for dominance. Mark's tongue gained entrance into Amata's mouth, eliciting a groan from her. Amata didn't know how long they were kissing for. Seconds, minutes, hours, it didn't matter, and not just because it was a dream. She loved every second of it.

"Get a room, you two," a voice to Amata's left said, interrupting them. It was Abby. "Eww, that's gross," James said, scrunching up his face in disgust. Mark, being the mature adult that he was, stuck out his tongue at the two children, which the two children returned in kind. Amata burst out laughing, and playfully slapped Mark on the chest. "Kids," Mark said, "why don't you go and play. Your mom and I need to talk for a minute." James tapped Abby on the shoulder. He shouted, "You're it," and then promptly ran away, Abby chasing after him. Mark and Amata watched the two of them run around for a few moments, and then turned back to face each other.

"I love you, Amata." "I love you too, Mark. This is the happiest that I've ever felt." "You do realize that this is just a dream, right?" She put a finger on his lips. "Shh, please, don't ruin the moment." They were silent for a few moments. "You, um, wouldn't happen to know where you are, back in the real world, that is, because you're missing and I'm worried." "Sorry, babe, I don't, but wherever I am, I'm sure that I kicking ass and taking names, and that I will be back. What have I always told you?" "That you'll always come back," Amata said. "You got that right, because I have a brilliant and sexy wife waiting for me, and apparently now a daughter. Now, I think you need to wake up, because Abby needs you."

"Amata, wake up." Amata's eyes shot open, and found Arcade standing over her, apparently having come in to wake her up. "Oh, good," he said, "you're awake. Abby is, too, and she's looking for you." Amata rubbed her eyes, threw off the blanket and stood up, stretching as she did. "Abby, right, yeah. How long was I out for?" "About an hour-and-a-half or so." "Well, thanks for keeping an eye on her for me. It was a long morning." "So," Arcade asked as they walked to the door, "how's your attempt at parenting going so far, in your opinion?" "It's all new to me, Arcade. I'm entering the unknown here." "Well, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step," Arcade stated as they walked out into the hallway. "Going philosophical on me, Gannon?" Amata joked.

He shrugged. "Eh, I have my moments. Now go on, that child needs you," he said motioning her to get going. Amata patted Arcade on the shoulder. "You're a good friend, Arcade. Listen, I'm sorry about earlier. I think that you, I, Boone, and Cass need to sit down later tonight and have a chat. But, as you said, right now I have a child that needs my attention." Arcade nodded. "Absolutely. I'll be in the lab if you need me. Oh, and remind me later, I have a book that might be of interest to you, vis-à-vis this situation with Abby." "Thank you, Arcade." With that, they went their separate ways, Amata towards Abby's room, and Arcade towards the elevator.

Amata walked into Abby's room and turned on the light. She saw Abby leaning up against the headboard. "Hi, sweetheart, how was your nap?" Abby looked at Amata with a bit of sadness in her eyes. "Abby, what's wrong?" Amata said as she walked over and sat down on the bed. "I- I had a dream…about my parents." "Oh, um, did you want to talk about it? You don't have to if you don't want to." Amata put a hand on Abby's arm. "No, it's okay. They, um, they told me that they're happy that I found people to take care of me and give me things that they would never be able to." She looked up at Amata with a sad smile on her face. "They said that they're at peace, and to live my life to the best of my ability."

"They, um, they also had a message for you and your husband." Amata's eyes widened. "They did?" "Yeah, they, um, they said thank you, and that your baby is going to be a boy." Amata's mind immediately went back to the dream she just had. "They said that?" "Yeah, and right before I woke up they said that they loved me, and that they were proud of me, and, and…" Abby lost her composure and started crying. Amata engulfed her in a hug and let Abby cry into her shirt while she rubbed her back. "I miss them so much," Abby said between gasps of breath. Amata couldn't help but start crying as well. "I know you do, Abby, I know you do." The two of them stayed like they were for a few minutes, Amata calming down a bit and allowing Abby to cry for as long as she needed to.

Eventually Abby stopped crying. Her eyes were red and puffy and there were tear tracks running down her face. She noticed the wet spot on Amata's shirt. "I'm sorry," she said pointing it out to Amata. "Abby, you have nothing to apologize for. Everyone needs to cry every now and then, even more so when people close to you pass away. When my father-in-law passed away, I cried for a few days because he meant so much to me. But then I remembered all the good times me and my husband had with him, and then I smiled because I knew he wouldn't want my husband or I to grieve for him, but to remember him as he was."

"That's the secret in these situations, Abby. Remembering all the good times you had with your parents. The dead never truly leave us, sweetheart. They are always in our minds-" she placed a finger on Abby's forehead, "-and in our hearts-" she placed her hand over Abby's heart, "-and one day, when the time comes, we will all see our loved ones again, in a place far better than the world we live in now." Abby smiled. "So…I'll get to see them again?" Amata smiled and rubbed Abby's right arm. "Yeah, you will, but hopefully not for a very long time, if I or my husband have anything to say about it. Now, how about I cook us up some lunch? Sound good?" Abby nodded. "Good. Now let's get you up and dressed, and we need to get you used to those crutches."

After a few false starts and a couple of minor adjustments to the crutches, Amata got Abby to a point where she could use them without help. They went out in the hallway and headed towards the kitchen when the elevator dinged open and Boone stepped out. He took a few steps down the hallway but stopped when he noticed Amata with Abby. They stopped as well and were now in a stare-down with Boone. "Um, Boone," Amata said, "this is Abigail Fields, mine and Mark's adopted daughter. Abby, this is another friend of ours, Mister Craig Boone." Abby and Boone continued their stare-down until Abby walked down the hallway with Amata right behind her. When she got close to Boone, she handed her crutches to Amata and hugged Boone around the waist.

Boone looked at Amata with a raised eyebrow, but all Amata could do was stifle a laugh. A few moments later, Abby let go of Boone and looked him in the eyes. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Boone." Boone, who looked to be in a bit of shock, said, "Nice, uh, nice to meet you too, kid." He then cautiously walked around the two of them and went into his room. Amata handed the crutches back to Abby and looked at her. "Abby, I'm not mad or anything, but, um, why did you hug him?" She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. He just looked like he could use a hug." Amata smiled, secretly wishing the others had been here to see that.

Ten minutes later, Amata was at the stove, cooking some mac and cheese, while Abby looked at the box while sitting at the kitchen table. "What does the box say?" she asked while she turned it over in her hands. Amata looked over her shoulder at the young girl. "Abby, do you know how to read at all?" she asked carefully, not wanting to make her feel stupid if she couldn't. "My mom taught me a few letters, but things came up, and she never really got to finish." She frowned and looked down. Amata stirred the noodles and then walked over to Abby and crouched down. "Well, how about this: after we eat, you tell me what letters you know, and then we'll finish what your mom started, okay?" Abby nodded. "Yeah, okay, I guess." Amata smiled, gave Abby a kiss on the cheek, and went back to the stove.

(Same time, Sierra Madre)

The trio of Mark, Christine, and Veronica had just entered the switching station and closed the door. Looking around the small room, Mark saw some computer servers along the back wall, a couple of desks and filing cabinets to his right, and a bit past those was a door that most likely led further into the facility. Mark walked over to the door and hit the switch to open it, but it did not respond. He then realized that the station looked to be running on emergency power, so they would have to find some way to turn the power back on.

"Veronica, do you see-" He was cut off when the station lit up and the door opened. He turned around and saw Veronica close the lid to a fuse box that had a heart on it. "Sorry, did you say something, Mark?" "Um, never mind. Let's get going. Wherever we need to be is a bit further in." They walked through the door and immediately heard the telltale beeping of the collars. He looked to his right and saw an unshielded speaker. Thankfully it was low enough that he just decided to smash it with the butt of the holorifle. They descended down a couple of flights of stairs, and they came across two more speakers, both unshielded and both low enough for Mark to smash as well. It also helped that there was graffiti denoting the locations of the speakers for them.

They walked onto a catwalk of a wide-open area. The catwalk led in two directions, one going down to the floor, and one going across to another room. The power management access was on the opposite end of the facility from where they currently were. However, getting there would be a bit of an issue. The first problem being that the floor was shrouded with the Cloud, and the catwalk leading to the small room he noticed earlier was missing a couple of decent-sized chunks of catwalk, leaving one three-foot section between them and the room. That section didn't exactly look stable.

Elijah had mentioned earlier that some people were able to survive the Cloud for short periods of time if they were strong enough. The problems with going down were that they would intentionally be exposing themselves to a deadly toxin, and it most likely wasn't a straight shot to a set of stairs that went up to the catwalk on the other side. If they went across to the room, there was only a chance that they would expose themselves to a deadly toxin, if the section of catwalk collapsed. He relayed all of this to Veronica and Christine, who agreed after thinking it over.

"You two go first," Mark said. "Why us?" Veronica asked. "You two are lighter than me. If I go first and the catwalk collapses, you two would be forced to go down and through the Cloud, and your lesser weight would likely make it easier for the cloud to kill you. On the other hand, I would probably have a better chance at getting through the cloud. My radiation immunity has to count for something here. Of course, I'm merely speculating on all of this, and I may be completely wrong, but we don't have any better options."

Veronica thought about it, and came to the realization that he was probably right. "You're a noble idiot, you know that, right?" Veronica said as she hugged him. "So I've been told. Go ahead. I'll see you on the other side." Veronica walked over, leaned back against the railing, and then started running. She leaped over the first gap, onto the isolated catwalk, and then onto the other side. Christine went next, but not before she threw the doctor's bag with their supplies in it to Veronica on the other side. Christine also made it over okay, and then it was Mark's turn. He tossed over the holorifle, and then began his run. He leaped over the first gap okay, and then went to start his leap over the second gap, but after two-hundred plus years of neglect and decay, the support beams collapsed. Mark screamed and made a desperate attempt to grab the other side of the catwalk, Veronica's hand, anything, but it came to no avail. He fell into the Cloud below.

Both Christine and Veronica looked down in shock. "MARK!" Veronica screamed, hoping to get him to respond. "MARK! Can you hear me?" There was nothing, and Veronica went out the other doorway, and down the other set of stairs that led down. Christine, meanwhile, typed furiously on a computer that was on a desk in the room, hoping to find some type of ventilation controls, or anything else at all to help.

Mark had miraculously landed on a small pile of rags. He immediately began to feel the effects of the Cloud. He got up slowly. He thought he heard someone yelling his name, but he wasn't really sure. He managed to barely stagger to his feet and tried to get his bearings. He attempted to turn on his pip-boy light, but even with that he could barely see a foot in front of him. He walked for a few more feet, but fell backwards into something hard and slid down as the Cloud began to overwhelm him. He tried to force himself to stand up, but his body refused, and the realization began to set in that this is where he would likely die. For the second time in his life, his life flashed before his eyes, which incidentally included the first time that his life flashed before his eyes.

(Five months ago, Project Purity Control Room)

Mark took the last steps into the control room, pressing the button to seal the outer door and opening the bulkhead as he went. He briefly looked at where his dad had taken his last breaths. He regretted not being able to say a proper goodbye to his dad. 'Then again,' he thought, 'it's not like it matters. I'll be seeing him and my mom shortly.' He walked over to the panel. He could feel the radiation begin to affect him as he began coughing up blood. He leaned against the panel, and looked up. "Amata," he said between coughs, "I surrender my soul so that the wastes may be a bit more hospitable to you than they were to me." He began to cough more violently. "I fought for you, but my fight is over. I hope that, when the time comes when we meet again, you will forgive me for breaking my promise to you. I always saw you as my guardian angel, Amata, and until we meet again, I will be more than happy to be yours."

He looked at the panel, and with a shaky hand, entered the code: 2-1-6, and then hit Enter. The machine activated, and the water inside the chamber became clearer as it started to swirl around. Mark fell back against the glass, and he looked at the statue of Thomas Jefferson with the water around it. His life began to flash before his eyes.

 _ **I am Alpha and Omega**_

"…happy tenth birthday, son…"

"…Mark, guess what I got you for your birthday…your favorite barbarian, Grognak…"

 _ **The beginning and the end**_

"…you're a perfectly healthy sixteen year old boy…"

"…Thanks for saving me from them, Mark. Bunch of jerks…"

 _ **I will give unto him**_

"…Mark, you have to wake up, your dad escaped, Jonas is dead…"

"…promise me you'll come back, Mark. Promise me…"

 _ **That is athirst of**_

"…thanks for disarming that bomb, kid…"

"…met your dad, real stand-up guy…"

 _ **The fountain**_

"…the Rangers are in your debt, kid…"

"…just know that your mother loved you very much…"

 _ **Of the water of life**_

"…run, son, run…"

"…dammit Lyons, I know you can hear me, let us in…"

"…thank you for releasing me, my friend. Now, the GECK…"

"…come on Franklin, we're taking that purifier back…"

 _ **Freely**_

Mark took one last look at the purifier as a solitary tear rolled down his right cheek. "I'm so sorry, Amata." Then, nothing. Unknown to Mark, at that exact same moment, in the vault, a feeling of dread suddenly came over Amata, although she was unsure why.

(Present Day)

Mark groaned and opened his eyes. He was sitting down, leaning back against something. His vision was a bit blurry, and saw the fuzzy outline of someone kneeling down in front of him. Mark smiled. "Amata, is that you, babe? Come here and give me a kiss." "Sorry, Marky-boy," the person replied, "but I don't swing that way. I'm flattered, though." "Huh?" Mark responded before he rubbed his eyes, and the world came back into focus. It was Veronica kneeling in front of him. "Welcome back to the land of the living." Mark looked to his right and saw Christine looking at him, a slight look of relief on her face. "What happened?" Mark asked. "The last thing that I remember was the catwalk collapsing, and then falling against something hard, and then nothing." 'Yeah, you did fall," Veronica responded, "likely on that pile of rags over there, got up, walked a bit, and then collapsed over here from exposure to the Cloud."

Mark looked around. "Wait, are we still in the switching station? What happened to the Cloud?" "Christine found some ventilation controls and cleared it out. Right after you fell, I came down to try and save you. I passed out, although just before it was cleared. I was out for about fifteen minutes. You, however, were out for about forty, forty-five minutes or so. Christine saved both of our lives." She indicated something on his chest. He looked down at himself. His vest had been taken off, his shirt lifted up, and a stimpak had apparently been injected into his heart, as it was still there. He took out the needle and tossed it away. He looked back at Christine. "Thanks, Christine. I owe you one." She nodded.

Veronica stood up and extended a hand for Mark, which he took and got back up to his feet. "Listen, you two, I owe you guys an apology for earlier." He ran a hand through his hair. "It's just…this is the longest that I've been away from Amata in quite a while, and it's bringing up some bad memories. It's not much of an excuse, but it's the reason, and I realize that acting like a jerk isn't helping our current situation." Nothing was said for a few seconds, until Veronica smiled and slapped him on the back. "We forgive you. Just don't let it happen again." She leaned down, picked up his vest, and handed it back to him. He took it thankfully and put it back on. She then handed him the holorifle.

He looked around the floor. He saw the remains of the collapsed catwalk and the pile of rags that had initially saved his life. In the middle of the floor was a large circular machine with a pipe that extended to the ceiling, and since it was humming, Mark assumed that this was what was controlling the ventilation. He walked around the machine, and stopped when he saw a body without a head slumped against the machine. He was wearing a grey jumpsuit, and there was a spattering of dried blood on the machine. "Uh, guys, you might want to look at this." Veronica came around, looked at the body, and gasped, while Christine examined the body closer.

Mark looked at Veronica. "You see, Veronica, this is what your so-called mentor has done, yet you continue to defend him. You saw the body at the medical station, the skeleton with a spear through it, and now him," Mark said, indicating the body. "How many more bodies do you need to see before you realize that Elijah is not worth saving?" "Mark you don't understand-" They were interrupted when Mark felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and looked at Christine. "What?" She held up a pip-boy to him. Mark took it. "Was this near the body?" He asked her. She nodded. "Mark, I thought Elijah said that those things could only be removed by the user because of the biometric seal." "True," Mark said, "but that's only for people who are still living. If the vitals drop to zero without being properly released, it releases automatically because the person is likely dead and can't remove it themselves. You think that I'm the first vault dweller to use this pip-boy?" he said, twisting his left wrist. "Although, I will be the last."

He looked over the pip-boy. "So, what vault are you from?" Mark said quietly to himself, although not quietly enough that Veronica couldn't hear him. "How can you tell?" "Each pip-boy has the vault number it was sent to imprinted on it somewhere. Ah, here we go. Vault number 34. Either of you know where that is?" "I think it's somewhere southeast of Vegas, but other than that, I'm not sure. Why?" "No reason. I was just curious. So, it looks like it still functions. Which one of you wants it?" "You want one of us to have it?" Veronica queried. "Yeah, why not? It still works, and it'd just be a waste to leave it here. These things are extremely useful." He looked at Christine, who shook her head. "Veronica?" She looked unsure for a couple of moments, before he shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, why not? Show me how it works."

He showed her how it was sealed by using her fingerprint, how she would release it, and all of the various functions. "Normally, the Overseer would input all of your personal data in it using a special device, but since we're short one of those at the moment, we'll wait until we get back to Vegas and then we can figure something out." The three of them climbed back up the stairs and made their way around to the other side of the station. They came to an open section of the catwalk, and there was an elevator that had a sign next to it. The sign read: "Power Management Access: Authorized Personnel Only." Mark looked at Christine. "Well, looks like this is your stop." Christine backed away and shook her head vigorously. Mark sighed. "Look, Christine, I'm guessing you're a bit claustrophobic from your time in the Auto-Doc, but you know what's at stake here, so, and I'm sorry for being so blunt about it, you need to suck it the hell up."

She shook her head again. "Mark," Veronica whispered in his ear, "let me talk to her. I may be able to convince her." Mark assented, and Veronica went over to talk to Christine. While he waited, Mark walked over to a section of the catwalk that had been partitioned off with a wall. He walked over, and saw a desk with a computer on it. He sat down at the computer, booted it up, and started typing. A couple of minutes later, Christine and Veronica walked over to him. "Alright," Veronica said, "she'll do it, but I need to stay with her." Mark looked at the two of them. "Well, I've got some good news. I was able to reroute power control to this terminal, so you can take care of it from here." Christine looked visibly relieved. "I'm guessing you're still gonna stay with her?" Mark asked. Veronica nodded. "Yeah, we have some catching up to do. I hope that's all right with you." "That's fine. I figured that was what you were going to do anyway."

After taking a stimpak out of their bag and putting it in his pocket, he went over to a ladder that led to a roof hatch that he noticed earlier. He decided to leave the holorifle with them. He took a couple of steps up, and turned and looked over his shoulder at them. "I'll see you two in the casino. I suggest you two primarily use the rooftops when we set this thing off, because these ghost people fuckers seem to be attracted to noise, and something tells me that there's gonna be a lot of it." "Be safe, Mark," Veronica said. "You as well," he responded. Mark continued his climb, forced the hatch open, climbed out and closed the hatch back up. He stood and looked over the villa. "Once more unto the breach," he said quietly, and then began his journey to the bell tower.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**


	46. Chapter 46: Embrace Your Role

Cass stepped off of the elevator and into the hallway. Having spent the last three hours at Gomorrah "relaxing," she was feeling much better than she had before she left. She heard voices coming from the kitchen. She went to the doorway and saw Amata and Abby sitting at the table, a few pieces of paper spread around them, and a pen in Abby's hand. ED-E was circling around the kitchen. None of them had noticed Cass as of yet. "…so this is how you make an uppercase 'Q,' and this is how you make a lowercase 'q.' Go ahead and give it a shot." Abby concentrated on the paper and copied Amata, although not as neatly as Amata.

"Good job Abby," Amata said with pride in her voice. "Now, the letter q is a weird letter. Any word that has a 'q' in it will always have the 'q' followed by the letter 'u,' which we will get to later. A couple of examples are 'queen,' or 'quilt.'" "Why is it like that?" Abby asked as she continued to practice. "Honestly, sweetheart, I don't know. That's just the way it's always been." "Okay," Abby replied. Cass smiled. Amata seemed to be doing pretty well with this parenting thing.

Amata looked up and saw Cass leaning against the doorway. "Oh, hey Cass." Abby looked up from her paper and looked at Cass as well. "'Mata," Cass said, nodding to Amata. Then she looked at Abby. "How's it goin', rugrat?" Abby scrunched up her face in confusion. "What's a rugrat?" she asked. "Eh, I heard it somewhere, it's a nickname fer people who are short or somethin'. Ya don' mind, do ya?" Abby looked at Amata, who shrugged her shoulders as if to say, 'it's up to you.' "I guess it's alright, and I'm doing fine, thank you Miss Cass." Amata leaned down and whispered something in Abby's ear. Abby looked at her again. "It's up to you if you want to, but I think that she'd like it," Amata said.

Abby thought on it for a couple of moments, and then spoke again. "I'm fine, thank you…Auntie Cass." Cass grinned. Amata remembered their conversation from earlier, and she was right: Auntie Cass did have a nice ring to it. "No problem, rugrat. So, what're y'all doin'?" Cass strolled around the table and looked at the papers. "Mrs. Franklin is teaching me how to read and write, so I'm practicing my letters." Cass picked up on of the papers. There were sets of uppercase and lowercase letters, some written neatly, most likely Amata's, and then there were some that looked like they were written shakily, most likely by Abby. Cass put the paper back on the table. "Well, yer doin' a good job, rugrat. Looks like ya got yerself a pretty good teacher."

"Abby," Amata said, "why don't we take a break. Why don't you, um, why don't you go into my room and listen to the radio. It's the second door on the right, and I'm pretty sure I left the door open." Amata and Cass helped Abby stand up. Amata looked at ED-E. "Hey, ED-E, can you go with her please?" ED-E beeped, and followed Abby out of the room and into the hallway. Cass took a bottle of whiskey out of the fridge, sat down at the table and propped her feet up, while Amata gathered the papers into a pile. "So," Cass said after taking a swig, "how's things goin,' mama bear?" Amata chuckled. "So far, so good, I suppose. She really is a sweetheart. Right now I'm just trying not to mess anything up." "'Mata, yer gonna be fine. From what I saw, ya already have a connection with her."

Amata shrugged. "I'm just worried, Cass. My mother died when I was only two, and I was basically raised by my father. What if- what if I do something wrong, and she hates me, and she decides to go live back on the street, and, and-" At this point, Amata began hyperventilating and was on the verge of crying. Cass, seeing Amata begin to drown in self-doubt, stood up, walked over to her and slapped her across the face. Amata looked at her in shock and bewilderment. "Sorry, but ya were ramblin' an' talkin' bout nonsensical shit that ain't gonna happen." "But Cass-"

Cass held up a hand to stop her from talking. "But nothin'. From what I saw, that kid adores ya, and I know that ya adore her, an' one day you an' Mark are gonna love her. 'Mata, yer a mom fer tha first time. Ya jus' got jitters, wonderin' if yer doin' something wrong, or if they're gonna hate ya cause ya took their toy away or somethin'. Shit like that's gonna happen, but when yer family, ya forgive an' forget rather quickly." Amata looked at Cass in disbelief. "What?" Cass asked as she sat back down, "There's more than jus' caravan routes an' names a drinks rattling around the ol' noggin. My ma told me how she acted when I was growin' up."

Amata leaned back in her chair. "What was your mother like?" Cass thought for a moment. "She was a hell of a woman, fiercely protective of her family. She was a tribal, ya know. Came from east a tha Colorado. Not really sure what tha name a tha tribe was, though. It was before Caesar rounded 'em all up an' made 'em Legion. She walked a hell of a way until she crossed paths with my dad, an' he convinced her ta stop walkin'. Lucky fer me he was a horny ol' bastard." Both Cass and Amata laughed at that statement.

"Did she pass away?" Amata asked. "Yeah, she passed away right as I was getting' into ma teens. Started doin' odd jobs ta support myself, and I thought I might try ma hand at tha caravan game. Turned out that I was pretty good at it, so that's what I was doin' until ya'll found me at that god-forsaken outpost." Cass went silent and started playing with the pendant on her necklace. "What's that pendant of, Cass?" Cass took off the necklace and handed it to Amata. The necklace itself was a thin strip of metal, and the pendant was a bronze diamond shape with a flower on it.

"It's a rose," Cass said. "Kinda fitting, with that bein' my name an' all." Amata looked at it for a couple of moments before handing it back to Cass. "I thought it was one a mom's tribal necklaces, but it turned out that dad got it fer me." "Well, it's a very nice necklace, Cass, and it obviously means a lot to you. I also think it's fitting that it's a rose. A rose is a very pretty flower, but you gotta be careful because it also has thorns on it, so that name fits you to a t." Cass smirked. "If I didn't know any better, I'd a thought that ya were comin' on ta me." Amata smirked back at her. "Sorry, Cass, but-" Amata was interrupted by a crash that sounded like it came from her and Mark's room. Amata quickly got up out of the chair and leaped over the table and into the hallway, with Cass hot on her heels.

Amata and Cass entered the room to see Abby hanging off the top shelf of the bookcase that was behind the desk, with the chair having fallen over. "Abby!" Amata yelled as she ran over and got the young girl off of the bookcase and deposited her on the bed. Cass picked the chair up and turned off the radio. "Abby, what were you doing?" Amata didn't intend for it to sound like she was angry, but that was the way that it came out. Abby started panicking and crying. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just saw the BB gun on the top shelf, and I just wanted to look at it because I used to have one, and I went to get it and the chair fell from under me. Please, I'm sorry, I'll do anything you want, just please don't kick me out!"

Amata's heart broke for the young girl, and pulled her close to let her cry. "Shh, shh, shh, Abby, Abby, it's okay. I'm not angry, and I'm definitely not going to kick you out." Abby sniffled and looked at Amata. "You're-you're not?" "No, Abby, I'm not. I'm sorry if it sounded like I was angry. I was just worried because I don't want you to get hurt any more than you already are. I don't mind if you look at it, but in the future, if you can't reach something, please ask someone to get it for you, okay?" Abby nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." "You're forgiven sweetheart. Now, how about a hug?" Abby embraced Amata once more. While they were hugging, Amata looked at Cass, who grinned and then mouthed 'I told ya'.

As soon as Abby released the hug, Amata got up and went over and spoke quietly to Cass. Cass nodded, and then walked out of the room. Amata then spoke to ED-E. "ED-E, next time you think she's doing something she's not supposed to, come find one of us, okay?" He beeped in the affirmative. Amata then got the BB gun off the top shelf and sat back down on the bed. "You know, my father-in-law gave my husband this gun when he turned ten." She smiled as she reminisced. She had seen James speak quietly with Mark, and then James had left the room. Five minutes later, Mark had snuck out of the party. She had noticed and quietly followed him down to the reactor level and spied on them as James and Jonas had given Mark the BB gun. She would never forget the beaming smile on his face as he held the gun for the first time.

James had said the he would show Mark how to shoot it, when Mark noticed Amata peeking out from behind the doorway. She tried to hide, but it was too late. She had apologized for intruding, but Mark said that it was fine. So James showed the both of them how to shoot, and afterwards they took a couple of pictures. One was of Mark and his dad, and the other was of Mark and her. She had kept the one of Mark and herself, and gave it to him when he was just about to leave the vault the first time.

She realized that Abby was staring at her. "Sorry, Abby, just reminiscing. I had your Auntie Cass set up a surprise for you, so why don't you go into the game room at the end of the hall and I'll be down in a couple of minutes." Abby nodded. Amata helped her get up and handed her the crutches, and Abby made her way out of the room and down the hallway to the game room. When she went in, she saw Cass setting up old tin cans at various points around the room. "Hey, rugrat, what's shakin'?" Abby looked around the room, a bit confused. "What's going on?"

"What's going on, Abby," came Amata's voice from behind her, the BB gun and a tin of BB's in hand, "is that we're gonna have a bit of a friendly contest. You against me. Whoever hits the most cans wins. You said you used to have a BB gun. Is that how you learned to shoot?" Abby nodded. "Well, Abby, it's been about eight, nine years since I actually shot this, so I may be a bit rusty, but I think I can still manage. So, Abby, are you game?" Abby smirked at her and Cass. "Oh, I'm game. What do I get if I win?"

Amata tapped a finger to her chin in contemplation. "How about…if I win, we go back to doing your letters, and if you win, you can do whatever you want, within reason, for the rest of the day. So, is it a deal?" Abby copied Amata by tapping her chin. "You're on." "I got ten caps that says tha kid wins," Cass proclaimed. "I'll get in on that," a voice from the doorway came. It was Arcade. "Seriously? You two are betting money on this?" "Hey," Arcade said as he sat down in a chair along the wall, "you're wagering something, too. Plus, this is Vegas. Might as well live a little."

Cass sat down on the seat next to him. "Yeah, what tha nerd said." "Hey, I take offense to that," Arcade said. "I prefer the term "well-learned." Cass waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, tomato, tomahto, let's get this show on the road." Amata looked at both of them. "Fine, you're both on. Just don't start crying when you lose your caps." Amata got a stool from near the bar and set it up at the front of the room and helped Abby get up on it. "Ok, Abby, there are seven cans. You get one shot at each. Whoever hits the most wins. If we tie, we shoot until we miss. Sound good?" Abby nodded. Amata loaded the gun and handed it to Abby. "Whenever you're ready, sweetie."

(Same time, Sierra Madre)

Traversing the villa by rooftop was a lot easier said than done. Some of them were just barely within his reach, and he nearly slipped off a couple of times. After about thirty minutes or so, he had finally reached the bell tower, using a ladder that led up to it from the rooftop below. Once he got inside, he bent over for a few moments to catch his breath, and then looked at the panel. It looked like he only had to pull a switch to activate the gala event. Mark took a second to look out at the villa and the casino. It was a nice view, and it probably looked even better before the bombs dropped.

He then called Elijah on his pip-boy. "Alright, Elijah, I'm at the bell tower and everyone else is in position." "Very good. Just give me a moment so I can link into the other collars." At first he heard static, and then he heard a beep from the collar. "Veronica," Mark said, "can you hear me?" "Mark, is that you?" Veronica asked as her voice came over the collar. "Yeah, Veronica, we're about ready to go. Everything all set on your end?" "Yeah, Mark, we're all set. Just let us know when." "Dean, what about you?" Dean scoffed. "I have to connect a wire. I may have worked in show business, but I'm not an idiot. Just get on with it." Mark rolled his eyes. "Uh, God, are you able to hear me?" "Yes, I can," came the low, guttural voice of God, "let us alight the fires in the sky."

Mark took a deep breath. "Alright, everyone, we'll do this on three. One…two…THREE!" Mark pulled the switch, and for a couple of moments, nothing happened, and Mark began to wonder if it didn't work. His fears were for naught when fireworks began to explode in the sky, music began playing, spotlights gleamed up to the heavens, and a woman's voice began speaking. Mark quickly climbed out of the tower and back down the ladder. He ran and hopped over to the nearest rooftop. He made that one, but on his next leap he misjudged the distance, and was barely able to grab the edge of the roof before his hand slipped off of it and he fell to the ground, landing in a crouch.

There were a couple of ghost people a little ways away from where he was, but Mark didn't even attempt to fight them and started running towards the casino. He ran as fast as he could past groups of ghost people, who tried to give chase to him. He barreled through a rather large group of them, tossing a grenade behind him for good measure. At this point, he was more or less running blind, not being able to check his pip-boy, and only using the casino as a reference point to where he was.

By the time that he made it back to the fountain, his legs were burning. It had been a while since he had to run this far this fast. He had kept in shape since coming to the Mojave, with jogs around Goodsprings as part of his training regimen, but that was nothing compared to what he was doing at the moment. Turning into the courtyard, he saw that the gates to the casino were open. He began his run up the long staircase that led to the casino, and his legs were feeling like they were about to give out. He came to the top, wrenched one-half of the wooden doors open, went inside and slammed the door shut.

He sighed in relief, and turned around and fell back against the door and slid down. It was then that he noticed that Veronica, Christine, Dog/God, and Dean were all passed out on the floor. He then heard what he assumed was some type of canister roll towards him, and then it began to hiss. Mark figured that it must be some type of knockout gas tied to the casino security. "Ah, fuck me," was all he could get out before he slouched over, and passed out. A short while later, Mark opened his eyes. "Uhh, I seriously need to stop getting knocked out," he said to no one in particular. He rubbed his eyes and got to his feet, albeit a bit slowly. He looked around the casino.

There was a reception desk to his right with a functional computer terminal on it, a wooden door about thirty feet away in front of him, two staircases leading up to the next level, which had an elevator. Above the elevator were stained glass windows with some saint-like figure holding her arms open in a welcoming gesture. The lights were dimmed, probably operating on emergency power. He looked down and realized that the others were missing. While he wondered what happened to the rest of them, Elijah started speaking over the building's speaker system, and it crackled as he spoke.

"Can you hear me? Power's fluctuating…emergency power. Oh! You are in. Good, thought that might be the end of you. Unfortunately, your…friends found their way here. Knocked unconscious, just like you. I can't hear you over the intercom, so pay attention. You were knocked out by casino security. Detects anything foreign, and subdues the visitor, and moves them if needed. Looks like the casino moved your "friends" around once inside. Might be useful, might not. Still…." He trailed off a bit, and then began speaking in a cheery upbeat voice that disturbed Mark a bit. "…Welcome to the Sierra Madre in all of its glory! This is what the old world stood for, even with bombs about to rain upon them. Now look at it. Quiet, the way it should be, the way the Mojave should be."

"Right now, the casino is sleeping. It's got places closed off, places you can't go yet. You need to restore power. Go straight ahead into the casino, and up on the second level is maintenance and utility controls. Go now and get it done. We're almost there." With that, the casino was silent once more. Mark just shook his head, and then checked his pip-boy to see if he could pick up the others. The collar signals were fluctuating on and off, indicating that there was some type of radio interference in the building. He switched to Veronica's frequency, just to see if he could hear anything. "…Christine…okay…auto-doc…" The signal dropped, and Mark switched it off.

Mark sighed and walked ahead to enter the casino. He pulled out his pistol and opened the door slowly. He closed it behind him and looked around. There was a small alcove with a terminal to his right, straight ahead of him he saw some slot machines, and close to the machines were a set of stairs leading to the next level. He then saw a holographic guard walk into his field of view near the stairs. Mark quickly moved over into the alcove so that the guard didn't see him. He booted up the computer and saw that it was set to have the guard patrol near the bar stairs, so he set its patrol to "casino west." The guard disappeared, and Mark then walked slowly out of the alcove and towards the main floor.

He saw a flicker of blue from the other side of the casino, but believed that he was safe for now. He walked up the stairs and went behind the bar. There was a speaker on the wall, which Mark smashed with the butt of his pistol. He found a first-aid box with a couple of stimpaks in it, so he put those in his pocket. He walked through the doorway that was behind the bar. To his left was a set of stairs that led up, and to his right was a hallway with a door at the end of it that said "Electrical Closet." 'That's probably what I'm looking for,' he thought.

He started to walk down the hallway when a security hologram walked in front of the door. Mark backpedaled quickly and hid around the corner. Mark peeked back around, seeing the guard face the wall, and then walk out of sight. Mark waited a few minutes to determine how long it took for the guard to walk back and forth. Once he was satisfied, he walked down the hallway and checked where the hologram was. It was still walking back towards the other end. He saw an emitter along the base of the wall to his right. Mark smashed it with his pistol, and the guard flickered out.

Satisfied, Mark holstered the pistol and went to go back to the electrical closet, when he realized that there were two other doors in the hallway besides the electrical closet. The one at the end of the hall was unlabeled, but the one in the middle, the one that Mark was standing in front of, was labeled "Security." This piqued Mark's interest, remembering what Elijah said about their equipment being stored in a secure location within the casino. He grabbed the handle and opened the door. The room was mostly utilitarian, having two desks and chairs on either side of Mark. One of the desks had a functioning terminal on it. On the opposite side of the room from where Mark entered, there was a large metallic door with a keypad next to it, and above the keypad was a sign that said, "Contraband." Mark grinned. "Paydirt."

He walked over to the door and examined it. Mark knocked on it, and found that it felt like about three inches of steel. Mark wasn't even going to try to guess the code. There was the fact that he didn't know how long the code was, leading to an unknown number of possible combinations. The keypad itself extended out slightly from the wall. If he could unscrew the panel from the wall, he could probably override the security code and get the door open. He checked the desks in the room but came up empty. He tried the computer, but there was no option to open the door, just some incident reports. He went back over to the keypad and wiggled it, but it wouldn't move.

He took a step back and thought for a few moments. He then moved over to the side of the keypad, brought his right foot up and kicked it. It loosened a little, but not enough. He then kicked it a couple more times, finally exposing the wires. This however, seemed to be enough to override the security as the door opened. "Huh. Not exactly secure if that's all it takes to open it." He shrugged and walked in, the lights in the room coming on as he entered. It was a fairly large room, almost the same size as his and Amata's room back at the 38. There were rows of metal shelving with various articles of clothing, food stuffs, and other miscellaneous items.

On the wall on his right, he spotted a very familiar-looking set of armor. He walked over, and on the shelf was his armor folded neatly with the helmet on top, the weapons he wore on himself, and his duffel bag. He saw his 10 mm pistol and picked it up. He saw Amata's name on the grip and shed a tear. Next to his things were Veronica's robe and her power fist, along with a skintight black bodysuit, which he assumed was what she wore underneath her robe, and her own boots. He then took off the bulletproof vest, the jumpsuit, and the boots and tossed them all to the side. He then proceeded to put his own gear back on. Once he had his gear back on, he felt a sense of peace, as if things were slowly returning to normal.

He emptied the scavenged 10 mm pistol, put the clip in his bag, and then verified that everything that had been in the bag was still in the bag. He then gathered a few useful items from the room, including medical supplies, a couple of flash bang grenades, and to his shock and amazement, a pair of Colt .45 Single-Action Army Revolvers in a cushioned briefcase. While not really useful in a fight anymore, they were still pieces of American history that Mark, in good conscience, could not leave in an abandoned casino. On top of that, they were in excellent condition for guns that were probably close to three hundred years old. There was no way in hell he was leaving those here.

After a couple of minutes of rearming himself, he was about to leave when he noticed a door in the back of the room that he had missed earlier. There was no label on the door, so he went over and pressed a button off to the side to open it. The room was no bigger than a broom closet, and inside he found a computer terminal hooked up to some servers on either side of it. He went up to the terminal, sat down and began typing. After a couple of minutes, he found that this was where the emergency broadcast signal was originating from. His first thought was to destroy this so it could never be used again, when another thought occurred: he could possibly use this to contact Amata.

Amata's pip-boy frequency may not have been available on his pip-boy, but he was the one who programmed both pip-boys in the first place, so he knew what her frequency was. Before he began trying to connect to Amata, he turned off the emergency broadcast that had been running since the bombs fell, one that had led an unknown number of people to their deaths. Ten minutes later, he believed that he found the correct frequency, and then hit Enter. "Amata? Amata, can you hear me?"

(Same time, Lucky 38)

"Yeah, yeah, here are your caps," Amata said, paying off Cass and Arcade after she "lost" to Abby. If she had wanted to, she could have probably beaten Abby, but she figured that the girl would feel a bit better if she won, so Amata threw the contest. She knew that those caps were already lost, but it was a small price to pay to see the smile on Abby's face. Abby was now sitting in one of the chairs along the edge of the room while the adults cleaned up the cans and the BB's. Suddenly, a voice came over Amata's pip-boy. "Amata? Amata, can you hear me?"

Amata dropped the tin of BB's that she was holding, scattering them on the floor. All movement in the room ceased, and all eyes were now on Amata. "Mark? Mark, is that you? Where are you? Are you okay? Start explaining, and start explaining now!" Amata commanded. "Babe, it's kind of a long story, and I'm not sure how long this signal will hold, so I'll give you the short version. First off, I'm fine, (Amata fell back into a chair as a wave of relief came over her when he said he was okay) and so is Veronica, I think. That signal we checked out came from an old bunker, and it led to us being knocked out and being dragged to a casino in northern Nevada, and don't ask, I don't know how we got that far either. An old friend of Veronica's, who she thought was dead, is forcing us to help him get into a vault that is supposedly under the casino. I'm using an old broadcast system in the casino to relay this message to you."

He paused for a moment. "Babe, I'm really sorry about this, and when I get back, I promise that I'll do anything you want me to do to make it up to you." Cass and Arcade moved around her, and Abby leaned as far over the arm of her chair as she could. "Mark, you had me worried sick, but I'm glad that you're okay. Listen, I, um, I have some news of my own," she said, looking over at Abby. "Mark, we have a dau-" She never finished because a screeching noise came over her pip-boy, forcing everyone to cover their ears. "Amata," came Mark's voice, "the signal's…out…don't have…time…take care…business…be back…five days…love you." The signal cut out after that. "MARK! Mark, are you still there?" Nothing. "Mark…" Amata said, tears beginning to fall, "I love you too."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Next chapter will be the final chapter for Dead Money. Until next time, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**


	47. Chapter 47: No Trouble Letting Go

**Author's Note: So here we are, the final chapter for Dead Money. It's been fun, but I have other things planned that I want to get to. This is going to be a long chapter, over 9,500 words. Not that I thought anyone would mind, but I just wanted to let you know. Enjoy, and reviews are always welcome.**

"Uh, 'Mata, are ya okay?" Cass asked. Amata composed herself as best she could. "Yeah, um Cass, I'm fine. It was just, um, hearing that he was okay, and then losing him so quickly just overwhelmed me for a moment." "Amata," Arcade said, "would you like some water?" Amata nodded. "Please, Arcade, if you wouldn't mind." "Not a problem. Cass, would you join me?" Cass looked at him questioningly. "What? Why?" Arcade sensed that Abby would want to talk about Mark with Amata alone, but Cass wasn't getting the message, so he went over and whispered in her ear.

Her eyes widened in understanding. "Oh, oh, yeah, I could, uh, use some water too." Cass and Arcade left the room, leaving Amata alone with Abby. "So," Abby said after a few moments, "that was your husband?" "Yeah, sweetie, that was him." "Is he- is he going to be alright?" Amata sighed. "I believe he will be. He's no stranger to dangerous situations. It doesn't mean that I don't worry, though." Abby got up from her chair, and hobbled over to Amata without her crutches. She crawled into Amata's lap and hugged her. Amata returned the hug, taking a measure of comfort from the young girl's embrace.

While they were hugging, Arcade came back in and placed a bottle of water on the side table next to Amata, and then quickly and quietly left the room. After a minute or so, Abby pulled back and looked at Amata. "You two grew up together, right? That's what you told me, right?" Amata smiled. "Yeah, sweetie, we've known each other since we were babies. We had some good times as kids." "Could you, um, could you tell me about them? The good times, I mean?" "Sure, Abby, whatever you want." Abby adjusted herself in Amata's arms so she could get comfortable. "We grew up in a place on the other side of what used to be the United States, close to its capital city, to be more exact. We grew up in a place called Vault 101…"

(Sierra Madre)

Mark sat back in the chair. He thought that that might happen. The equipment was two hundred years old, and he had forced it to do something that it wasn't meant to. It was likely only meant to cast a wide-area emergency signal, so forcing it to search for and broadcast to one particular frequency likely shorted it out. He shrugged and got up. Nothing that he could do about it now. He made contact with Amata and let her know that he was okay. He took his reacquired gauss rifle and fired a shot into the servers. He then tossed a grenade into the room for good measure, and then closed the door. The room shook briefly, but he ignored it. He accomplished one of the things that he wanted to do before he left: render that equipment unusable.

He gathered his equipment, walked over to the electrical closet, flipped a few switches and restored power. As Mark started walking out of the closet and back towards the lobby, Elijah began to speak over the intercom again. "You woke it up…good." As Mark passed through the casino, he saw the regular lights on and holograms standing behind card tables, waiting to deal hands of cards to people who would never come. "Emitter frequencies…lighting up everywhere. Casino security is shutting down, opening up its vendor and gambling programs…still might be something for sale." Mark was now back in the lobby, waiting for Elijah to get to the point. "Now that the casino is paying attention to…us…it's time to deal with your friends."

"I couldn't see them before, but now…it looks like they've been moved to other floors. Interesting…perhaps the casino recognized specific guests, or those with a voice or look close enough to be assigned to that specific floor. I had hoped with the power restored, the systems would fully awaken, especially the sound archives…white noise filters embedded in their construction, blocking the casino's speakers, the music." At this point, Mark was sitting on the reception desk, still waiting for Elijah to get to his point. Although, Mark noted, he was right when he guessed about the radio interference.

"You'll need to recalibrate-or destroy- each collar. They're interfering with the systems. Reset the collar, or kill them. My preference, kill them. They're of no use to us anymore. The collars don't work inside the Sierra Madre, well, between floors, at least. If they did, I'd have set them all off, be done with it." Mark wondered if Veronica could hear her illustrious mentor saying that he wanted her to be killed. "If you kill the others, there should be some time to run before the explosives set off in both collars. The elevator to the vault is located in the executive suites. It's protected by a voice password…I can't override it. The man who built this place, Sinclair, he was obsessed with Vera Keyes, made her _voice_ the key. Now go. The nightkin is in the Cantina Madrid, the ghoul is in the Tampico Theater, and Veronica and the mute are in the executive suites."

His voice cut out, and Mark hopped off of the desk. He checked his pip-boy to verify what Elijah had said. One signal on the first floor, one on the second, and two on the 43rd floor. "Well, might as well work from the bottom up." Mark hopped off of the desk and walked around, storing his bag underneath the counter until he could retrieve it later. He had his pistol holstered on his right hip, his assault rifle on his back, various grenades on his belt, and his trench knife strapped to his right leg. The entrance to the Cantina Madrid was on the far right side of the first floor. Mark opened the doors, finding a hostess stand, and just through another doorway behind that was perfectly clean and set circular tables, silverware, glasses and all, looking like they had just been set. The collar signal was coming from the kitchen, so he would have to head there to confront whichever personality was currently in control.

As Mark made his way through the restaurant, Mark realized something. There was supposedly a massacre here, so where were the skeletons of those who had died? Where were they? Had security moved them as well? Mark shook his head. The more he learned about this place, the more it creeped him out. As Mark got close to the metal door marked "Kitchen," he was able to hear two people arguing. He put his ear to the door, and he realized that the nightkin's two personalities were arguing with each other. Mark went to open the door, when he realized that he couldn't. It was a solid piece of metal, with no visible way to open it.

Elijah's voice came back over the speakers. "Damn. The idiot has smashed open all of the gas valves in the kitchen. A small spark- or he sets off his collar- and the whole casino burns. The door is hermetically sealed due to the gas leak. I can open it, but only this once. Deal with the idiot before he kills us all!" The door opened sideways, and then sealed behind him. Mark could hear Dog and God arguing much clearer:

… _make casino_ _burn…_

… **go back to the cage, listen to me…**

… _you make dog go in cage, wakes up hungry…_

… **wanted to protect you, always to protect you…**

… _want to die, not much longer now, pull chain…_

The arguing continued, but Mark wasn't really paying attention anymore. He was lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't let Dog kill himself, or both of them, so he thought of possible ways to resolve this. He settled on one idea. It was risky, but he believed it to be his best option. He was in his full armor, so no one could see what he looked like, and his voice was muffled, so he wouldn't recognize his voice from earlier in the police station. Dog needed a master? Mark would give him one. Time to see how good his acting skills were. He walked into the open, where Dog/God could easily see him, projecting confidence.

"Dog! It is I, your master, Elijah! Listen to me now!" The nightkin's argument stopped. "Master? Is it really you?" "Yes, Dog, it is I, your master. I have a new order for you." The nightkin nodded eagerly, seemingly forgetting about wanting to kill himself. "Dog listens. What is it that you want Dog to do?" Mark paused for a moment when he realized that the nightkin was holding a regurgitated bomb collar in his right hand. Now he really hoped that this would work. "Dog, I am pleased with your work, so I believe that you deserve a rest. I need you to listen to that other voice inside of you. Go to sleep, and let the other voice come out."

Dog looked confused. "But, if the other voice comes out, Dog…Dog won't wake up." "Dog, I am your master. You wouldn't want to disappoint me now, would you?" Dog shook his head. "Dog listen to Master. Dog not disappoint master. Dog… Dog go to sleep now." His eyes shut, his body seemed to sway, and then he fell down face first. Mark let out a sigh of relief, and then located and subsequently turned off the three open gas valve in the room, and then used a computer in the room to activate the exhaust fans, clearing out the gas.

It was then that the nightkin stood up, using one of the stainless steel tables as a support. Mark approached him warily. "God?" "Yes, it is me," the articulate voice of God said. Mark let out a breath he didn't realize that he was holding, and then took off his helmet. "Good. I wasn't sure if that would work or not. So, is Dog asleep now?" "Yes, and thankfully, he won't wake up until I let him. That was a clever trick, using Dog's need for a master against him. You are much smarter than I gave you credit for." Mark shrugged. "Yeah, either that, or just plain lucky. I've been called both. So, are you alright?"

"I am fine. A bit hungry, but otherwise, I am okay. "Good to hear. Now, if you wouldn't mind handing over the bomb collar in your hand, I would greatly appreciate it. I need to either reset or disable it." God handed him the collar, and Mark examined it. He looked around the kitchen, and found a screwdriver. He unscrewed the latch on the thickest part of the collar, and examined the wiring. After talking to himself for a minute or so, he took his trench knife and cut a blue wire, and thankfully, the red light went out. Mark tossed it away and re –sheathed his knife. He left his own collar on for now. It wasn't that he didn't trust the nightkin, it was just that his fingers were a lot bigger, and one mistake would see his head taken off.

God had been watching him with interest, and when Mark noticed it, he explained. "I've disabled a nuclear warhead before. The principles the same, just on a bit smaller scale. So, what will you do now?" "For now…I rest. Then, I will make my way out into the world, find some of my own kind, maybe help others. The future is not yet written, and it is up to us to determine our own paths." Mark smiled. "You know, I knew a super mutant in DC just like you. His name's Fawkes. Loved to talk philosophy. I think you two would get along just fine."

"Perhaps I shall seek him out, then. But you, you need to deal with the old man. End him. He cannot be allowed to live." Mark patted the nightkin on the arm. "Trust me, we are in full agreement on that one. It's my friend that I need to convince." Mark paused. "Safe travels, my friend. Maybe our paths will cross again someday." The nightkin smiled. "I would like that. Safe travels to you as well, human."

Mark put his helmet back on and made his way back to the lobby. Elijah's voice came back over the speakers as he arrived back in the lobby. "Good, good…you've gotten one of the floors re-established. Only two more to go." His voice cut out after that. "That's right, Elijah," Mark said to himself, "one step closer to killing you, you crazy-ass bastard." Dean was in the Tampico Theater, the entrance to which was on the next floor. He walked up the stairs and entered the theater. The first room he came into was the box office, and past that was another set of double doors. Mark walked through them, and came to a hallway that extended out on either side of him. He looked to his right, where the longer portion of the hallway was. There were paintings adorning the walls, with velvet ropes in front of another set of double doors. At the end of the hallway, Mark saw another one of those vending machines that he had seen in the Villa.

To his left was a significantly shorter portion of the hallway, and he could see a light emanating from around the corner. He took the shorter route, going into the Tampico Theater. The theater had a high ceiling, a large stage taking up the center of the room, circular tables near the stage, and booths and bar in the back. On the red curtain behind the stage, in blue neon letters, was the name Dean Domino. 'Well,' Mark thought, 'now I know why security took him here. He was supposed to perform here the day the bombs fell.'

Taking stock of the room, Mark counted four shielded speakers: One on the near wall, one on the far wall, and two on the back wall. After a few minutes of trial and error, he found that he was able to stand safely in the center of the room, near the stage. There was a music stand with some sheet music in front of him. He picked up the sheet music to look at it, and when he did, something fell out of it onto the ground. It was a key. Mark picked it up and pocketed it. It was then that he heard a voice echoing off of the walls. "Well, well, well, look who showed up, and in some fancy new duds as well." Mark looked up and saw Dean Domino standing on a catwalk that came out from behind the stage.

"Felt the collar start kicking again as soon as you entered the theater. Think that you're going to upstage me, here at the Sierra Madre? I don't think so. Now that I'm inside…well, I guess that I don't need you anymore now, do I?" "So," Mark said, staring Dean down, "stabbing me in the back now, are you?" "You think that I'm the bad guy here? I'm not the one slapping bomb collars on people. Besides, I didn't stab you in the back. I was facing you the whole time. This little heist? I planned it centuries ago. You, the old man, the women, the brute? You're all just tourists, and tourists deserve a show. I'll just wait backstage and let security handle you." Mark smirked at him, not that Dean could see it.

"You seem awfully eager to kill someone whose life is tied to yours." Dean blanched for a moment, but regained his composure. "No, no, sure, the collars are active, but they feel different. I can still make it out while security fries you to a crisp. The treasure of the Sierra Madre is mine, and no one is going to stop me. You were all tools. Especially the girl with the scars." Mark thought about that for a moment. "Wait, so _you_ put Christine in the auto-doc and took out her vocal chords? What possible purpose could that serve?" "Well, let's just say that Sinclair had a failsafe to get into the vault. The procedure should already be done by now. The Sierra Madre is mine, and no little shit stain in some fancy getup is going to take what rightfully belongs to me."

Mark chuckled. "Shit stain, huh? I'll admit, I've never been called that before. I've been called the "Lone Wanderer," "the Courier," and one of my personal favorites, "that crazy kid from Vault 101." They're all different names, Dean, but they all have one thing in common: they're pretty good at judging distances. You know what else, Dean?" "What?" "You talk too much." Faster than Dean could react, Mark pulled his 10 mm pistol and shot Dean square between the eyes, sending him backwards through the curtain. Mark's collar started beeping, so he turned and ran towards the doors. He ran through both sets of double doors and leaped over the railing and back into the lobby, which thankfully stopped the beeping.

Once he landed, he realized that he was not alone. There were two ghost people, one with a spear and one with a bear trap on its arm. Once they saw him, they began their attack. He fired a couple of shots from his pistol at the one with the bear trap on its arm, temporarily felling him. He dodged a spear that had been thrown at him, embedding itself in a pillar. He fired his pistol, but the clip was empty. He tossed the gun aside and reached for the knife on his leg. The creature came to swing at him, but Mark ducked out of the way and swept its legs out from under it. He then plunged the knife into its throat, and with one clean swipe, decapitated it. Mark looked over and saw the other creature beginning to get back up, so he ran over, put a foot on its chest, and decapitated that one as well.

Mark then got into a ready position, waiting for any more of them, but after a few moments he realized that he was alone again. 'How the fuck did they get in here?' Mark thought. He looked at the door, which was still sealed. 'Ok, it wasn't the door. Maybe…the air ducts? But if that was the case, wouldn't some have already been in here?' In the end, he decided that it didn't matter. The endgame was in sight.

It was then that Elijah's voice came back over the intercom. "Good. Two floors cleared. Almost have what I need from the music archives. Once the last floor is cleared, you can access the music archives at the front desk, and it should give you the sound file to unlock the elevator. Almost there." He cut out, and Mark looked at the terminal. He knew that there was something that he had forgotten to do. He looked on the computer. There was access to the music archives, but when Mark pressed it, it said that they were unavailable. There was an option to turn on security, but Mark didn't feel like dealing with the holograms any more than he had to, so he left that alone.

When he was done with that, he put a fresh clip in his pistol, made his way up to the elevator, and pressed the button to the 43rd floor. Once the elevator opened again, Mark stepped out into the hallway. The floor was carpeted, and there were traces of Cloud on the floor and on the walls. It was much dirtier than the rest of the casino. The speakers crackled, but this time it wasn't Elijah. "Mark, it's Veronica. I overrode the signal on the speaker ('Thank god,' Mark thought), for this floor, at least. Christine and I are okay. I know you're on the floor because your collar frequency is much stronger than it had been. You were right; these pip-boys are dead useful. Christine and I are in an old-world hotel suite. Very high class, two rooms. If they weren't so dirty, they'd rival the rooms at the 38."

She made a grunting noise. Mark got worried, but she spoke again. "Sorry, Mark, that was Christine. She thought I was getting off topic so she elbowed me. Uh, where was I? Oh, right. The exit's sealed, all doors locked down, and security holograms are active, so be careful. I'll try to shut them down from here, but I wouldn't hold out much hope for that option. Oh, and I'm pretty sure there's a gas leak somewhere. The smell's a dead giveaway, so when you're not busy, you _might_ wanna take care of that, you know, before we get blown up and all that. I'm also pretty sure there's one of those concentrated pockets of the cloud somewhere on this floor, so, yeah, it's pretty much a shit show out there. There's probably a way to shut down security on the floor, so when you do that, come find us, and then we can talk some more. The room we're in has a set of double doors. See you soon, Mark."

Mark sighed in relief. At least they were okay. He grabbed his assault rifle off of his back and readied it. He walked down towards the end of the hallway, and he heard the faint sounds of a woman talking. It sounded like it was a ways away, but it was definitely there. Mark turned right and began to search out his way to where Christine and Veronica were. At first he came to a collapsed section of hallway, forcing him to turn around. He walked into a room that had a hole in the wall, and saw two skeletons lying on top of a perfectly made bed. Mark remembered what Elijah said about security moving people, so it was likely that these people died when security was activated, which would explain the lack of bodies downstairs.

About fifteen minutes later, after finding the gas leak and shutting it off, and listening to the hologram of Vera Keyes begging Sinclair to let her out, and apologizing for something that she did, Mark came upon the security office and deactivated security. A few minutes later, he found the double doors that Veronica had talked about, finding that they were wide open. Moments after Mark stepped through, he found himself in one of Veronica's patented vice-like hugs. "Mark, I'm so glad you're okay. When we got in the building and I didn't see you, I got worried." Mark patted her on the back and she let go. He then took off his helmet. "Well, as you can see, I'm fine." Mark took a look around the room. There was a nice sitting area with a few couches in front of him, and over to his right was a bar.

"Where's Christine?" Mark asked. "She's in the other room. Come on." They walked through a doorway on the left side of the room and walked into a bedroom. Christine had her back turned to them, reading on a terminal attached to an auto-doc that was to their left. There was a king-sized bed with red silk sheets and pillowcases in front of them, and to the right of that was a skeleton sitting in a chair, wearing a very elegant black and red dress with a flower on it. The lower half of the dress looked like it was only meant to cover one leg, leaving the other one exposed. Above her, on the wall, written in what looked like blood, were the words, "LET GO." "Veronica, is that-" "It's Vera Keyes." That wasn't Veronica's voice. It was the same voice that the holograms on this floor had spoken in.

Mark looked at Christine, who somehow was speaking like Vera Keyes. "According to…uhh…reports, (her voice sounded raspy, and she kept wincing, like she was still trying to get used to talking again) she was dying, and…uhh…using med-x to help dull the pain. We figure she took the easy way…uhh…out, instead of dealing with the security." Mark looked at her in amazement. "How are you speaking in a voice of a singer that's been dead for two hundred years?" Veronica answered. "Let me explain, Mark. When I woke up, Christine was in the auto-doc. I went to get her out, but there was an operation in progress. Apparently, they're some sort of…synthetic vocal chords imbued with Vera's voice, being held in some sort of stasis. I really can't explain it better than that, but, nonetheless, Christine can talk again."

Christine walked up to Mark and extended a hand for Mark to shake. "I'm sorry about earlier, Mark. I don't trust easily, but you've earned mine, and my respect as well." Mark shook her hand. "It's fine. I'm just glad we can communicate without having to resort to using hand gestures." "Yeah, me too." "So, Mark," Veronica interjected, "what happened with you after waking up?" Mark told them about finding their gear, Dog/God, Dean, the ghost people, pieces of what Elijah told him (excluding the part about Elijah wanting them all dead), and then coming up to the floor. "Well," Christine said, leading them behind the bar and through a false wall that led to the elevator, "at least the asshole that shoved me in the auto-doc in the clinic is dead. We found the elevator earlier, and like you said, it needs a voice key to open it. She fidgeted with the collar on her neck.

A light went off in Mark's head. "Oh, right, I figured out how to disarm the collars. Let me take care of that." They were both a bit nervous about Mark messing with their collars, but were both relieved when they were disarmed and removed. Mark instructed Veronica how to do his own. "Mark," Christine said, looking at Veronica nervously, "can I talk to you in private for a minute?" "Uh, sure, Christine." They went back in the bedroom and closed the door behind them. Christine got right to the point. "Mark, Elijah needs to die. What he's done here, it's nothing compared to what he's done elsewhere, and he cannot be allowed to walk away. I know Veronica thinks that she can save him, but he's too far gone. Sure, he was brilliant at one point, but there's a fine line between brilliant and crazy, and he crossed over a long time ago."

Mark rubbed his temple. He figured that he was going to get caught up in an argument like this. "Look, Christine, I agree, but Veronica wants a chance to talk him down, and as her friend I'm inclined to give her that chance." Christine opened her mouth to argue, but Mark put up a hand to stop her. "Look, I need to go back down to the lobby to get this damn password. Let me think about it, okay?" She reluctantly agreed, and after putting his helmet back on, went back to the elevator and back down into the lobby. He looked over the railing, and saw three ghost people walking relatively close together, and one just happened to be carrying a gas bomb. He sighed. 'I'm tired of dealing with you fuckers,' he thought.

Instead of trying to fight them all, Mark fired his pistol at the bomb, detonating it. Mark ducked down, feeling the residual heat from the blast. All that remained were chunks of ghost people. He made his way back to the computer and accessed the music archives. He downloaded the sound file to his pip-boy. He played it, just to hear what it was. It was Vera Keyes' voice, saying four words: "Let go. Begin again." After a quick stop to the security area to retrieve Veronica's power fist, Mark made his way back up to the suite. Christine and Veronica were arguing about what to do with Elijah, and it was starting to become heated.

Mark took off his helmet and let out a shrill whistle, shutting them both up. He gave Veronica her power fist. "Alright, enough, both of you. I have the code. The fact of the matter is, we don't need it. I only did it so he would think that I've gone down. Our collars are gone, so we could technically walk away and there's nothing that Elijah can do to stop us. However, we can't leave him here with this tech. That would be irresponsible. Christine, you want him dead, and Veronica, you want to talk him down." They both started to talk again, and Mark whistled again.

"Stop. I think I have an idea that will satisfy everyone. He's gotta come up here to get to the vault. So we ambush him. If he surrenders, we take him back to the Mojave to stand trial. If he resists, we kill him." "Mark," Veronica said, "what about the vault?" "Veronica, I don't give a shit about what's in the vault. Dean thought that it was treasure. Elijah thinks that it's blueprints for the tech here. The truth is, no one really knows. For all we know, it could be a trap. The risk isn't worth it. We either do it this way, or I blow his head off the second I see him, because I really want to kill him, but you're my friend, so I'm giving you this chance." Veronica closed her eyes and sighed. "Alright, fine, we'll do it your way."

Approximately ten minutes later, Elijah walked through the doors and found an assault rifle and a pistol pointed at either side of his head, courtesy of Mark and Christine, respectively. He looked more haggard in person, and he was wearing a belt with some pouches on it and some type of energy weapon that Mark was unfamiliar with. "Game's over, Elijah," Mark said. Veronica came out of the bedroom, a bit of a forlorn look on her face. "Ah, Veronica, long time, no see." "Hello Elijah," Veronica said, her voice seemingly devoid of emotion. "Ah, Christine. So, you finally caught me, did you? Took you long enough." Christine growled. "You've got a lot to answer for, Elijah," she said.

"Elijah," Veronica pleaded, "this madness, it needs to stop. Come back to the Mojave with us. I can ask for leniency at your trial." Elijah shook his head. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Veronica. Your parents, they would be so very disappointed in you right now." A look of sadness came upon Veronica's face. Mark cursed internally. 'Bringing up her dead parents, you bastard. That's a low blow.' "Veronica," Mark said, "don't listen to him. He's trying to play on your emotions." "Oh, but I believe they would be. Your parents were two of the brightest people I've ever known. Very loyal to the Brotherhood. I've always known you to have a bit of an independent streak, but you were still loyal to the Brotherhood, to me. Did you know that they personally asked me to watch over you if anything happened to them?"

Veronica became weak in the knees. "They- they did?" "Yes, they did. They knew that I was the person to help the Brotherhood take control of these lands. They entrusted me with your care, which I gladly accepted. You were my protégé, the one I had chosen to continue my work when I was no longer of this earth, and I believe that you still can be. Yet you choose to cavort with…outsiders," he said, looking at Mark. "Tell them to lower their weapons, and we can make sure your parents dreams can become a reality."

Veronica had to sit down at this point. "Veronica," Mark said, looking at her, "I didn't know your parents, but any good parent would want their child to do what makes them happy. Yes, you are a Brotherhood Scribe, but that does not define you. You are Veronica Renata Santangelo. You are a strong, smart woman. An independent thinker. You like to punch things. You like to wear dresses because they make you feel pretty. You're also my friend, and the aunt to my future kid. You can't change what happened in the past, but the future is unwritten. Do not let anyone else dictate that future to you."

While this was going on, Elijah had surreptitiously drawn two syringes from one of the pouches on the back of his belt, and with the distraction, he injected one each into Mark's and Christine's exposed necks. Mark dropped his weapon, and he began to feel woozy. He fell to the ground, and the last thing that he saw before he passed out was Elijah's grinning face. Veronica looked on in shock as both Christine and Mark passed out. "Elijah, what did you do?" "It won't kill them, Veronica. It'll just knock them out for a little while. We need to talk."

A short time later, Mark awoke to himself and Christine leaning up against the bar, hands and legs bound with some kind of cloth. "Ah, good, you're awake." Elijah was him standing near the center of the room, while Veronica was sitting on the couch, a conflicted look on her face. "Veronica, why don't you tell them the good news?" They both looked at Veronica, who spoke without looking at either of them. "Guys, Elijah needs to get whatever's in the vault." Christine looked shocked, and all Mark could say was, "wait, what?" "Mark, he's going to help so many people with this tech, and Christine, we can be together again."

"Yes," Elijah said, revealing a pip-boy on his wrist, "So I'm going to need that password. I know you have the file, but I can't access it." Mark smirked at him. "I added some safeguards to my pip-boy, Elijah. It's under a voice lock. You're not the only one who knows how to manipulate machines, and there's no way in hell that you'll ever get me to unlock it." Elijah looked steamed. Mark looked at Veronica. "Veronica, I don't know what he's told you, but he's lying to you. He's trying to manipulate you by twisting your parent's memories to his own end."

"Mark's right, Veronica," Christine said. "He's playing with your mind. Don't let him. You're stronger than that." "Veronica," Elijah said, "When have I ever steered you wrong?" Veronica looked between Elijah, Mark, and Christine. "He- he's got a point there, Mark." "So, what, Veronica, you get Christine back, what about me?" "Work for me," Elijah said. "You are a very resourceful person. You could be my right-hand man."

Mark scoffed. "Sorry, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I work for you. Besides, I'm already working for one megalomaniac." Elijah picked up his weapon from the table. "Well, then I guess you're dead weight." He aimed the weapon at Mark. "Last chance. Work for me, or you die." They heard a cocking noise, and saw that Veronica had taken a pistol (his own pistol, which had been stripped from him, Mark realized) and aimed it at Elijah. Elijah turned around and aimed his weapon at her. "I can't let you kill him, Elijah. He's my friend." Mark realized that this was the perfect time to reveal Elijah's plan to her.

"Veronica, do you know what he told me when I talked with him, you know, when I left the police station earlier?" "SILENCE!" Elijah yelled. "No, Elijah," Veronica said, a look of determination now gracing her features, "let him speak. Go ahead Mark." "Veronica, he is the reason that you and Christine were separated. He knew about your relationship long before it came out into the open. He said that you were losing focus, so he had a ready-made excuse to separate the two of you." Christine became agitated, struggling against her bindings. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU!" Veronica looked wide-eyed at Elijah. "Elijah, please tell me that what he said isn't true." He didn't answer, but his silence spoke volumes.

"You know what else, Veronica? He doesn't want to help people. He wants to recreate the Cloud to wipe out the NCR and Legion. He wants to use the collars to enslave people, the vending machines to force reliance on the Brotherhood. He is not who you think he is." "Why you insolent little-" Elijah wheeled around to fire at Mark, but before he could fire, another shot went off. Mark saw Elijah fall to the ground, his weapon falling away. Mark saw a bullet wound in the back of his head. Mark and Christine looked at Veronica, who looked to be in shock. The gun in her hands dropped to the ground. "I-I-I couldn't let him…he was going to shoot…you have Amata and the baby…" She then fell back onto the couch and started crying.

"Veronica?" Mark said with concern. Christine nudged his shoulder with her own. "Let her cry it out. I think that she needs it." About fifteen minutes later, after she had cried herself out and untied their bindings, Mark moved Elijah's body while Christine distracted Veronica. Mark moved the body near the elevator, and then closed the secret partition of the wall that led to it, a final "fuck you" to Elijah, basically saying that everything he wanted was so close, yet so far away. They were now drinking beers on the couches in the room, not really saying a word. After about five minutes, Mark broke the silence. "So…that just happened." "Yup," Christine said in response. Veronica was staring at the spot were Elijah's body had been, a small pool of blood resting in that spot.

"Veronica," Mark said, "it needed to be done." She was silent for a couple moments, and then said, "I-I know. It's just hard. He was like a grandfather to me. He taught me everything that I know. I thought that the Elijah that I knew was still in there somewhere, but when he turned around to shoot you, I just…reacted. You have a kid on the way, and when he threatened to kill you for not joining him, I began to realize that he wouldn't hesitate to tear your family apart to get what he wanted." Mark patted her on the arm. "I appreciate it, Veronica, and I know Amata would appreciate it." "Mark, were-were you serious about what you said before, about me being an aunt to your kid?" She looked hopeful.

"Of course I was serious. Family is what you make of it, Veronica, and I've got the feeling we're gonna be in it for the long haul. The guys back at the 38, we may not be blood, and it may be a weird dynamic, but they're slowly starting to become family. Well, I guess Amata's already technically part of my family, being my wife and all. Besides, who else is gonna teach my kid to punch things? That's definitely an "Auntie Veronica" lesson." Veronica smiled. "Thanks, Mark. It means a lot to me to hear you say that." "Anytime, Veronica. Now, uh, how about we get our stuff and get the hell out of here? I am eager to put as much distance between myself and this place as possible."

Veronica put her beer on the table and stood up, as did Mark. "Yeah, you're right. I miss seeing the sun and breathing fresh air." Mark looked at Christine. "Christine, we have plenty of room at the 38, so once we get back to the Mojave, you're more than welcome to stay with us." Christine was staring at her beer like it was the most interesting thing in the world. "I'm not going back." Mark and Veronica stared at her for a few seconds, and then Mark broke out in laughter. "Oh, okay, you got us. That's a good one. Come on stop playing around and let's go." The look on Christine's face made it clear that she was not joking. "Oh, you're actually serious. So why, exactly, do you plan on staying here?" "Yeah," queried Veronica, "I'd kinda like an answer to that as well."

Christine leaned back on the couch. "Veronica would know this, but I doubt that you would, Mark. The Brotherhood was created after the Great War to collect, preserve, and protect technology so that nothing like the war would ever happen again. We stopped Elijah, but who's to say that someone else doesn't stumble upon this place? Someone needs to be here to protect it. It's my duty as a member of the Brotherhood." Mark looked at Veronica to see her reaction, but she kept her face straight. He turned back to Christine. "Ok, first of all, I did know that, and I'm a bit insulted that you would automatically assume that I wouldn't know that. Second of all, you're insane. Elijah probably followed the signal here, but I blew up the machine that sent it out. The chances of anyone finding this place by accident are slim, and anyone with the knowledge to recreate this tech finding this place is even slimmer." 'Not to mention that I plan to blow this place to kingdom come once certain things get fixed,' he thought to himself.

"It doesn't matter the odds, Mark. They still exist, and as long as this place stands, it's too big of a risk to take." Mark went to respond, but Veronica cut in, a mix of anger and sadness in her voice. "So that's it, huh? We finally have a chance to be together again, and you're just going to throw it away? Do I mean **nothing** to you?" "Veronica," Christine responded, "you mean a lot to me. Being part of the Brotherhood also means a lot to me, and I can't just shirk my duties. We both took an oath the day we were officially inducted. That oath still means something to me." "So that's your decision? You'd rather guard some tech in a casino in the middle of nowhere than have a chance at happiness with me?" Christine didn't respond. "Christine, **god damn answer me!"** "Yes," Christine said, although you could barely hear her.

Tears began to fall down Veronica's face. "I don't even know who the hell you are anymore. I should've realized it when you let him leave the police station by himself. The Christine that I knew would've never let a teammate go into a hostile environment alone. This is just another reason why the Brotherhood is failing. Duty above all else, even friends and family. Well, I'm done. They can rot away for all I care. As of right now I **QUIT** the Brotherhood! I hereby **rescind** my oath, and I **reject** all that they stand for!" She then ran out of the room, sobbing into her hands.

"Veronica-" Mark called out, but to no avail. Both Mark and Christine stared out of the door. "Well," Christine said about a minute later, "that could've gone better." Mark raised an eyebrow at her. "Gee, you think?" "Look, Mark, you seem like a nice guy, but you wouldn't understand." "Yeah, see, there you go assuming things about me again. You think that I don't know about duty? Trust me, I know about duty, about loyalty. The thing is, if my wife was in danger, and I had to choose between loyalty to a cause, and keeping her safe, she would win out every single time." He pulled a chain off from around his neck, the chain that held his Brotherhood holotags, and put them on the table. Christine looked at them in disbelief. "Are those-" "Yes, they are. Paladin Mark Franklin at your service. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find Veronica."

Mark eventually found Veronica sitting in the locker room attached to the security office. She was sitting on a bench, staring at the ground. Mark leaned against the doorway. "So…I guess you won't be going back to rip McNamara a new one." She gave a teary chuckle. "No, I guess not. I'm never going down there again. You were down there. Most of them just barely tolerate my presence as it is. I'm basically a pariah. Although I may go back one more time just to punch Watkins in her stupid, overly made-up face." Mark laughed. 'Yeah, I got the feeling that you two never really got along."

He sat down next to her and put a hand on her leg. "Are you alright, Veronica?" She blew her nose on a towel. "Yes…no…I don't know. Mark, I-I don't get it. We finally have a chance to have a relationship out in the open, and she just rejects that outright? Help me out, because I feel like I'm missing something." Mark thought for a few moments. "Do I agree with her? Hell no. I think that she's insane, but I'm just gonna play devil's advocate for a minute. Some people, they take their sense of duty to the extreme. While I may not agree with it, and while you strongly don't agree with it, it's her decision to make. If she's truly firm in her decision, then there's nothing that you or I can say that would change her mind."

"If she chooses to stay and give up another chance at a relationship with you, then it's her loss. You are a smart and beautiful woman, Veronica. I have no doubt that you would be able to find someone else to be in a relationship with." She sniffed a couple of times and looked at him. "You really think so?" "Oh, absolutely. Hell, if you were into guys and I wasn't in a relationship, I'd totally be trying to get into your pants." She laughed. "Oh, aren't you the sweet talker. If that's the way you talk to girls, then it's no wonder that Amata fell for you." Mark puffed out his chest. "Yep. It's that old Franklin charm. Makes us irresistible to women. Well, most women." "Don't hurt your shoulder trying to pat yourself on the back, Casanova." They both laughed, and then there was silence for a minute or so. "Thanks Mark. I don't know what I did to deserve friends like you and Amata. You guys feel more like family than the Brotherhood ever did."

"Think nothing of it, Veronica." "I'm serious, Mark. You let me travel with you after talking to me at the 188 for all of five minutes. You trusted me to watch over the woman who's pregnant with your kid. For all you knew, I could've been some psychopath who was waiting for the right time to rob you blind. Most people don't trust that easily." "Yeah, well," Mark said, "that may be a bit left over from the vault. You can take the boy out of the vault, but you can't take the vault out of the boy, I suppose. Besides, if I had any doubts about you, I wouldn't have invited you. I like to think that I'm pretty good at reading people."

Veronica sighed. "Well, I think that I need to talk with Christine." She made to get up, but Mark put a hand on her shoulder. "Let me talk to her first." "Why? Do you think you can get her to change her mind?" "Maybe, maybe not. At the very least, I'll give her something to think about while she spends the rest of her life in this hellhole. Give me, say, ten minutes, and then come find us." She nodded. "Thanks, Mark." Mark stood up and made his way towards the door. "You're welcome…Auntie Veronica." As Veronica was left in the room by herself, she began to feel something she hadn't felt in a long time: hope for the future.

Mark made his way back to the suite, finding Christine sitting on one of the couches. She looked up when he entered. "She's not happy with me, is she?" "No, not at all, but I believe that she knows where you're coming from. She wanted to come talk to you, but I convinced her to let me talk to you first." "You're not going to change my mind, Mark," she said outright. "I didn't say that I was going to try to. You're an adult, and it's your decision to make. I just want to tell you a story that I heard once." Before she could object, Mark plopped down next to her and began talking.

"Our tale begins in a vault on the east coast of what was once the United States. Two children were born, one boy and one girl. Now, the boy and girl became friends before they could walk or talk. Nobody could really explain why, not even their fathers. What of their mothers, you ask? Well, the boy's mother died minutes after giving birth, so she was never really in the picture. The girl's mother died shortly after the girl turned two, so they were both raised by their fathers. The boy and the girl, they did everything together. Playing, doing homework, even just doing nothing. You would have thought that they were attached at the hip."

"The boy's father, who was the doctor, and the girl's father, who was the overseer, they never really got along. The children noticed it, but were never really told why. Once the girl hit puberty, her father had guards with her at all times, because he didn't want the boy and girl to be together. Throughout their teens, romantic feelings developed, but they were never really allowed to progress."

"As for the vault itself, all of the residents were told that the vault had never been opened since the bombs fell, that they were all descendants of the original vault dwellers, which, for most of them, was true. "We're born in the vault, we die in the vault," was what they were told. Well, one day, when the boy and girl were both nineteen, the girl woke the boy up from a nap to tell him that his father had escaped from the vault, and that he had to leave, too, because she feared for his safety, fearing what her father would do to him. So, with the aid of the girl, the boy escapes, and in the process, learns that everything that they had been told was a lie. The vault had been open multiple times, and, despite what they were always told, the wastes were actually habitable."

"The boy asks the girl to come with him, but she declined, saying she had to stay behind because she was the only one who could get through to her father. The boy accepts that, leaving the girl to deal with what was essentially a ticking time bomb. Before he leaves, the girl makes him promise that he would return one day. He promises, saying that he would be back, because he always keeps his promises. Once out in the wasteland, among other things, he learns that he was not born in the vault, but in the basement of the Jefferson Memorial. You see, it turns out that his mother and father were working on a project to purify the water in the DC Tidal Basin, which would allow them to distribute water to the wastes. The science behind the project was solid, but they could never get it to work on the scale that they needed."

"It was then that the boy's mother had given birth to him, and then passed away. With his son the only family he had left, and with the project basically at a standstill, he takes his son and abandons the project, sacrificing the future of the wastes for that of his only son. He takes his son to the vault, asking for sanctuary. It is granted, albeit under certain conditions which the father could not refuse. As it turns out, the father used the vault's water systems to continue his work, trying to figure out what went wrong. When he finally realized what he needed, his son had turned nineteen, and so decides that his son can take care of himself, and leaves to find what he needed."

"The boy finds his father, and along with some of the original scientists, they restarted the project. Before it can really get going, the father was forced to kill himself by a group of people who want to use the clean water the project would produce to control the wasteland. The father nearly sabotaged the project, giving his son a chance to flee to safety, which he did. The group took control of the facility, getting it back to working order, but they are unable to get it operational, without the missing piece. The boy, with help, found out what his dad was looking for, and retrieved the missing piece, but it is stolen from him by the people who currently controlled the facility."

"The father was smart, however. The machine could only be started by a code that only he knew. As it turns out, the code was the number of the mother's favorite Bible verse, one which the father had repeated over the years to his son, which had to do with giving water to those who were thirsty. With the help of a couple of groups he befriended in the wasteland, they take the purifier back. They get it running, but complications with starting the machine nearly cost the boy his life."

"A few weeks later, the boy gets a gets a distress call from the girl, saying that the situation in the vault has become toxic, and without the boy's intervention, they wouldn't survive. Two groups had formed. The "rebels," as they had been dubbed, led by the girl, and made up mostly of their classmates, wanted to open the vault to the world. The other group, made up mostly of the adults, led by the overseer, wanted to keep them isolated. So the boy goes back, talks with her father, and gets him to agree to step down, naming his daughter as his successor. The boy was shocked when the girl told him he had to leave, citing people still blaming him and his father for what happened down there. The boy and the girl argue, and the boy leaves, telling her any relationship they may have had was over." Christine interrupted him. "Mark, this is interesting and all, but is there a point to all of this?" "Hang on, I'm almost there."

"Now, a few days after this occurred, the boy realized that he had been stupid, that the girl didn't want him out of her life forever, just for a little while, just until things could get back under control, until they were ready to leave the vault. The boy thought that he had burned that bridge, and felt that going back to apologize would be fruitless. The girl, however, finally realized how the boy felt when he was exiled from the place that he had called home for most of his life. So she leaves the vault to its fate, leaving to find the one person that she realized that she couldn't live without."

"The girl catches the boy as he was about to leave the area for good. They are able to reconcile, and they then aimed to start a new life together elsewhere, away from the madness that had become a part of their daily routines." Mark paused and took a breath. "Christine, like I said before, I won't tell you what to do. Fate has given you and Veronica a second chance to be together, just like it did for the boy and girl. Whether you seize that opportunity or not is up to you. The thing is, you can't hug duty when you're feeling depressed, and loyalty won't keep you warm in bed at night." "Was- was that story true?" Mark shrugged. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I don't know. Like I said, it's just a story I heard." Mark saw Veronica walk in the doorway, and he got up off the couch. "You two need to talk. Whatever your decision ends up being, I'll be waiting back down in the lobby." Mark grabbed his weapons, his helmet, and his holotags, and then headed towards the elevator, leaving Christine and Veronica alone.

(20 minutes later)

Mark was sitting on the reception desk, all packed and ready to leave. Thankfully, there hadn't been any ghost people in the lobby when he had come down. He heard the elevator ding, and looked up. He saw Veronica and Christine walking down the stairs, holding hands and smiling. "So," Mark asked, "what's the decision?" Veronica looked at Christine, and then spoke. "Let's go home, Mark. _All_ of us." Mark smiled and nodded. "Okay, then." A short while later, Christine and Veronica were ready to leave.

Veronica decided to leave her brown robe behind, saying that it was part of her past, not her future. She also smashed her holotags, once and for all severing her allegiance to the Brotherhood. She had grabbed some armor from the security office, and the black and red dress from the suite (she said it wasn't the one that was on Vera's skeleton- there was another one in her wardrobe), and put that and some provisions in a satchel bag she had found in the suite. Christine, who was still wearing the composite armor from earlier, had taken Elijah's weapon.

They made their way down to fountain in the courtyard, when Veronica asked, "Mark, how exactly are we going to find our way back?" Mark tapped his pip-boy. "I told you, these things are very handy. My pip-boy mapped the route that took us here, so we just need to follow it in reverse. It'll take us about five days if we maximize our walking time." "Alright then," Christine said, "what're we waiting for?" The trio left the Sierra Madre behind, having no trouble letting go of something they never wanted in the first place.

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thus ends the Sierra Madre portion of the story. In the next chapter, they make their return, and we see Mark's reaction to Abby. Until next time.**


	48. Chapter 48: Hello Father, Hello Daughter

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is doing well. The title of this chapter is a play on the song title, "Hello Mother, Hello Father." Enjoy, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**

Four days had passed since the trio of Mark, Veronica and Christine had departed the Sierra Madre. That time had allowed Mark and Christine to get to know each other a bit better, and for Veronica and Christine to get reacquainted with each other. Mark didn't tell anything about his past that Veronica didn't already know, and insisted that the story that he told her was just that, a story, which may or may not have been true. Christine told Mark about her time with the Brotherhood, her and Veronica's relationship, their apparently pre-meditated break-up, and her moving to something called the "Circle of Steel," which she said was basically internal affairs for the Brotherhood. Mark hadn't heard of that with the DC chapter, so maybe it was just a west coast thing.

She then told them of her travels before she got caught in the auto-doc. She mentioned some place called the "Big Empty," but would not elaborate any further on what or where it was. Mark seemed to be warming up to Christine, and she was the same with him. Christine and Veronica still had some issues to work out, but they seemed to be well on their way to getting back to something close to where they were before their forced separation at the hands of Elijah.

Mark and Veronica told Christine of the others at the Lucky 38. Veronica felt it necessary to warn her that Boone was a former NCR sniper, due to the Brotherhood's bloody history with the NCR. Mark stressed that he trusted Boone, and everyone else at the 38 with his life, and that she would have to learn to work with more "outsiders" if she wanted to stay with them. "You don't have to be all buddy-buddy with each other," Mark had said, "just tolerate each other. That's all I'm asking." Christine admitted that it might be difficult, but she would try. Mark promised that he would try to keep Boone in line as well.

The walking was mostly uneventful, encountering raiders a couple of times, but under the combined firepower of the three, the raiders were easily dispatched. They found small settlements on the way back, buying supplies that they might need, and renting rooms if it was close to nighttime. Thankfully, at least from Mark's perspective, none of the settlements needed his help with anything, which was a far cry from what happened when he would come upon a new settlement in DC.

It was now early morning on the fifth day, close to 9 AM, and they would reach Vegas by the end of the day, putting a bit of a spring in Mark's step, his eagerness to see Amata evident to the two women. They were presently traveling on what was once a Nevada State Route, heading in from the north. It was at this time that Mark's pip-boy beeped, and when he looked at it, a wide grin came across his face. Amata's frequency had reappeared, meaning that they were back within the twenty-five mile radius for them to stay in communication. He was almost home.

(Lucky 38)

In that same four day period, the relationship between Amata and Abby continued to grow. Abby was slowly but surely getting used to the idea that she had a home, and a family, again, and that she would never have to go back to living on the streets. There were a couple of nights where Abby had had a nightmare, so Amata let her sleep in the same bed as her. Arcade and Cass were also enjoying Abby's company, and she and ED-E were getting along like two peas in a pod. The two of them were rarely apart.

The second afternoon that she was there, Arcade had taken Abby down to the medical facilities, and gave her a health check-up that Amata had requested, under the guise of Arcade showing Abby how all of the machines worked. He also put a protective boot on her foot, which he admitted he should have done the first day. He also gave her an introductory lesson on how to treat basic injuries, using the nearly-healed cut on her cheek as an example.

Cass, meanwhile, wanted to teach Abby how to shoot her shotgun, but Amata had immediately shot down that idea, saying that with her only being seven, coupled with her injured ankle, that she wasn't ready for anything more powerful than a pistol. Both Abby and Cass objected, but Amata put her foot down, and would not budge. So, instead, Cass regaled Abby with tales of her time on the road, editing some of the more explicit tales. This was after Cass had received a tongue-lashing from Amata after Amata walked in on Cass telling the young girl about having a threesome. Cass also started teaching Abby about the finer points of negotiating and how to read people by taking stock of their body language and reading facial expressions.

Amata continued to teach Abby how to read and write, and Abby could now identify all of the letters of the alphabet, and could now write her first name, along with other basic words. Once Abby's foot had healed, she vowed to take Abby down to the gym to get her started on a workout regimen. Mark had stressed on multiple occasions that physical fitness had helped him escape dangerous situations more than once. Speaking of Mark, in their brief conversation, Amata was sure that she heard him say that he would be back in five days, so she held onto that thought to sustain her until he could return. Amata told Abby a lot about Mark, giving her a head start on learning about her adoptive father. Amata thought that it might speed up the bonding process if Abby already had some knowledge of him when she met him.

True to his word, Arcade had given a book to Amata that he thought would help with Abby. He had acquired it a few years ago from a trader, and it had helped him out a lot. The book was titled "Child Psychology 101." The book, in part, explained how children dealt with trauma, and what the best course of action was. Amata absorbed the information like a sponge, willing to do anything to help her adopted daughter deal with the death of her parents. Abby had yet to reveal what had happened, and Amata did not push, waiting for Abby to tell her, which was exactly what the book said to do.

ED-E had become extremely attached to Abby, following her everywhere, playing music for her. He even guarded her door when she was asleep at night, which Amata found absolutely adorable. He was like a little floating metal guard dog. Sometimes, Amata had found Abby chasing ED-E, warning her to be careful since she still had the crutches, but not explicitly stopping her. She was still a kid, after all. As long as she didn't go too fast, Amata let her have her fun.

A couple of days into that four day period, when Amata had gone on the Strip to take a walk, she was given another note by the same NCR trooper that had delivered a note to her the last time. It was a missive from Colonel Hsu, saying that the plan that Mark had devised to deal with the Crimson Caravan Company and their targeting of various caravans was given the green light. Amata told the trooper to please inform Colonel Hsu that Mark was not feeling well, and that he would meet with the Colonel when he was feeling better.

Boone seemed to be the only one not getting along with Abby. In fact, he seemed to be intentionally avoiding her, as well as everyone for that matter. For the first three full days that Abby was there, Amata noted that he seemed to leave before everyone else got up, and came home after everyone went to bed. Amata was becoming increasingly frustrated with him. Cass and Arcade had slowly began to earn Abby's trust, but Boone hadn't done anything with her since the day they met, and that went no further than a stare-down and a hug from Abby. By the end of the fourth day, Amata had had enough. She was going to force a confrontation with him, whether he wanted one or not. So she waited.

(12:30 AM, earlier fifth day)

Boone walked into his room and turned on the light. Boone's room was smaller than the master bedroom, although similarly furnished, to a degree. Whereas her and Mark's room had two couches, his only had one, and there was a slightly smaller bed, but that was where the basic differences ended. He had a large NCR flag hanging on the wall, and had hung up some camo netting, giving the room a more militaristic feel. Amata was sitting on the couch in the dark, and when the light came on, she spoke. "Hello, Craig." Boone immediately drew his pistol and aimed it at Amata, but he holstered it when he saw who it was.

"God dammit, woman, don't do that. You're liable to get shot that way." He sighed and began to disarm. "Any particular reason that you're sitting in my room in the dark?" Amata examined her fingernails with a bored expression on her face. "Oh, you know, just wanted to say hi, since no one's really seen you in the past four days. They way you're acting, it might make someone think that you're avoiding us." "I've been busy." "Busy doing what, exactly?" Amata asked as she stood up and walked over to the NCR flag, examining it. "I don't see how that's any of your business." She turned around, examining the rest of the room. "Yeah, you're right. It is none of my business. You're an adult; you can come and go as you please. So, tell me, Craig, what do you think of Abby?" He grunted. Amata looked straight at him.

"No, you wouldn't have any opinion on her, because outside of meeting her, you've had absolutely no contact with her. You've had no interaction with anyone since she's been here. Why?" "I don't see why it matters." "Oh, believe me, Craig, it matters." Amata said, her voice making it clear that she was extremely unhappy with him, "Cass and Arcade are getting along great with her, and she's warming up to them. She and ED-E are nearly inseparable, and I love her to death. Yet, you avoid her and us like we have the plague."

"You know what she asked me when I put her to bed earlier? She asked me why you hated her. You know what I told her? I told her nothing. I had to change the subject, because I couldn't answer her. The fact that she even asked that question was extremely troubling to me. There is a small child, who gave you a hug because she said quote, "he just looked like he could use a hug," who probably thinks that she did something wrong by hugging you. She's not going anywhere, Craig, and you've probably already realized that, so what the hell's going on? Do you actually hate her?" Boone didn't answer, making a beeline for the door. Amata moved past him, blocking him from leaving.

"Oh, no, you're not going anywhere." He stared her down, but Amata was not intimidated. He moved over towards the desk. "Fine, you don't want to tell me what's going on? I'll take a guess. I don't think that you hate her. I think that you're avoiding us, Abby in particular, because she is a painful reminder of the life you could've had if Carla wasn't abducted and killed. You're afraid to get close to her, or anyone else, because you're scared that if you get close to someone, and something happens to them, you won't be able to take the pain. If you have no emotional attachment, then you can't get hurt." Boone's knuckles turned white as he gripped the back of a chair, and his face was becoming red. "You know nothing about me," he hissed through his teeth.

She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Of course I don't know anything about you, I mean the real you. Your hopes, your fears, your dreams. You don't talk to anyone besides Mark it seems. All that Cass and the others know about you is that you were in the NCR's military, and the only reason that I know you were married is because Mark told me. You can't live your life avoiding people and shutting them out, Craig. You're just gonna end up as some bitter old man, with a bunch of regrets, and you're gonna die alone, with no one to remember you." Suddenly, the look on her face morphed from one of annoyance and anger to one of sympathy, and her voice softened considerably. "Craig, you gave your heart to Carla. You let her in, let her past this whole "macho man, lone wolf" façade. You two were gonna have a child together. What happened to her, Craig, it sucks and it was unfair to you. You got robbed of a chance to have a family of your own."

Her voice hardened a bit again. "Well, I've got some news for you. Sometimes life sucks, and it is rarely fair. If it was, Mark's dad would still be alive, and he would have grown up with his mother. Craig, if you let us in, we can be that family. Abby can be that kid that you never had, but you need to give her a chance. In case you've forgotten, I also have a kid on the way, and I want him or her, and Abby as well, to grow up around people who care about and respect each other. If you can't do that, then you might as well just leave right now." Amata demonstratively pointed towards the door. "I will do whatever it takes to make sure my family is happy, and if you're standing in the way of that, then I don't want you here. I don't care what Mark would say." There was no movement in the room for a minute or so, as Boone and Amata stared each other down. Boone saw a veritable raging inferno in Amata's eyes.

"Get out of my room," Boone eventually said. Amata raised her hands in defeat. "Fine, I'll leave, but not because you told me to. I'm tired from waiting up for you." She turned and opened the door, but before she left, she turned her head and looked at Boone. "Starting tomorrow, you **will** spend some time with her, or you will leave. Just eat breakfast with her or whatever. I don't care, just do something that shows that you don't hate her." She paused for a moment. "You may be a great sniper or whatever, but right now, all I see is a negative influence, and I will not have that around my family." She paused again. "I would slam this door, but everyone else is sleeping. Goodnight, Craig Boone."

(8:50 AM, fifth day)

The next morning found Abby, ED-E, and Amata in the kitchen. Abby was eating some sugar bombs in brahmin milk, ED-E was hovering around Abby, and Amata was looking out of the door that overlooked the balcony, a glass of water in hand. She was wishing for the umpteenth time that the wasteland had coffee, like the vault did. It had helped her get through some rough nights, both during and after the standoff. The wastes didn't even have anything close to it, which was a shame, because there were some times when she could've used a cup, like this morning. After declaring that Abby's ankle was healed, Arcade had secluded himself in his lab, asking for no disturbances, saying that he was close to a breakthrough with his research. Cass had yet to grace them with her presence. Boone hadn't been seen, either, but Amata was fairly sure that he was still in the building.

A few moments later, Amata heard a door open and close in the hallway, and when she turned around, she saw Boone standing in the doorway. Both Amata and Abby stared at him, and then Abby went back to eating. Amata pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and jerked her head in Abby's direction. Boone got himself a bowl and spoon, and sat down at the table, making a bowl of cereal for himself. He then started to eat, occasionally glancing at Abby. Amata watched them, seeing if Boone would actually interact with her. A couple of minutes later, Boone finally spoke. "How's, uh, how's your cereal, kid?" "Very good, thank you, Mr. Boone." Boone nodded.

A few moments later, Abby finished, and got up and stood next to Boone. When he looked at her, she said, "I wanna tell you a secret," indicating with a finger for him to lower his head. He did so, and Abby got close to his ear, and blocked her mouth so Amata wouldn't hear. "Good morning," she whispered. She then gave him a peck on the cheek, and then ran out of the room giggling, ED-E following right behind her. Boone watched her leave, and then looked at Amata, who was grinning like a madwoman. "What the hell just happened? She said she wanted to tell me a secret, but all she did was tell me good morning and then kissed me." Amata laughed. "Craig, she's a kid. A lot of things that kids do don't make sense. You just have to roll with it."

Boone shook his head. "If you say so." Amata sat down in the seat that Abby had just vacated. "See? Now was that so hard?" He grunted, and continued to eat. She lightly swatted him on the shoulder. "Admit it, you like her." He continued to eat, not responding. Amata put her elbows on the table, interlocked her fingers, and then rested her chin on her hands. She stared at Boone, continuing to smile. Boone kept glancing at her every few seconds. "Would you please stop staring at me?" "Not until you admit that you like her." A minute later, he threw his hands in the air. "Fine, I like her. Happy?" Amata nodded. "Very." She then got up, and took Abby's bowl and spoon over to the sink to wash them. When her back was turned, Boone rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I saw that, Craig." He continued to eat, Amata hearing him mumble something that included the words "…crazy women…" Amata couldn't help but smirk.

While she was washing the dishes, she heard the elevator ding, and she heard Arcade singing his rendition of "Ain't That A Kick in the Head." He then appeared in the doorway.

"… _The room was completely black_

 _I hugged her and she hugged back_

 _Like the sailor said quote_

 _Ain't that a hole in the boat…"_

As Amata went to dry her hands, Arcade grabbed them and broke into an impromptu dance, swinging both of their arms back and forth.

"… _I go to sleep and I keep grinning_

 _If this is just the beginning…"_

Amata was finally able to get him to let her go. She laughed. "Arcade, calm down. Why are you so happy?" He grinned at her. "Amata, it's so wonderful, I feel like I could kiss you. Ah, what the hell?" He gave her a big kiss on the cheek. He then turned and looked at Boone. "Try and do that to me and I shoot you," Boone said pointedly. As if to accentuate his point, he put his pistol on the table in plain view. "Fair enough. I'm just so excited! My research has finally yielded results!" Amata smiled. "That's great, Arcade. What did you find?" "Well, it seems that-" At that moment, Cass appeared in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe. She was bleary-eyed, and her hair was a mess, and she was wearing her plaid shirt and a pair of blue sweatpants she borrowed from Amata.

"Wha' tha fuck is goin' on?" "Cass, language," Amata berated her. "Anyway, it seems that Arcade got excited because he finally had a breakthrough with his research." "So, he decided ta start singin' like a nutter? It's too damn early fer this." She sat down at the table, and laid her head on her arms. Amata poured her a glass of water and put it in front of her. "Drink this, Cass. You look like you could use it." Cass looked up, examined the glass for a moment, and then chugged it. "Thanks, 'Mata." Amata looked at Arcade. "Sorry, Arcade, now what were you saying?" "Ah, yes, right, well it seems that-" He was interrupted again when Amata's pip-boy beeped. "Sorry, Arcade, hang on." She looked at her pip-boy, and her eyes widened. "What is it, Amata?" "It's Mark."

She pressed a button on the screen. "Mark? Mark, can you hear me?" Mark's voice came through. "Amata, is that you? You have no idea how wonderful it is to hear your voice again. How are you doing?" "I'm fine. How are you? How's Veronica?" "We're both fine. Based on where we are, we should be back by 9, 9:30 PM at the latest." "That's great, Mark." Abby and ED-E had just re-entered the kitchen, and Amata beamed at her. "Mark, when you get back, I have a surprise for you." "Oh, really? Well, we sort of have a surprise of our own." "I can't wait, Mark. Now you listen to me Mark Franklin, and you listen well. Unless you are attacked, you are not to deviate from getting back here. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Amata, my love, I understand." "No, Mark, repeat after me: I promise that I will not deviate from returning home unless I am attacked." Mark sighed. "Really, Amata?" "Just do it, Mark." Mark knew her no-nonsense voice when he heard it, so he just gave in. "Fine. I, Mark Franklin, son of James and Catherine Franklin, promise that I will not deviate from returning home unless I am attacked. Happy?" "Yes, yes I am. I'll see you in twelve hours. I have preparations to make. I love you Mark." "I love you too, Amata." She ended the transmission and then walked over to Abby. "Come on, sweetheart, we're gonna go find something nice for you to wear for when you meet him tonight. I saw some nice dresses downstairs that I think you'd look cute in." She took Abby's hand, and headed towards the elevator, ED-E in tow.

"Hang on," Boone said as he got up and followed them, "I'm gonna hitch a ride down to the gym." Cass stood up and walked out, saying that she was going back to bed. That left Arcade standing in the kitchen by himself. He sighed and took a beer out of the fridge. "I guess my news can wait until Mark returns. He is the reason that I'm able to use the lab in the first place, I guess. He should be there when I announce my breakthrough." He then raised his bottle. "See, the conquering hero comes, sound the trumpets, beat the drums."

(12 hours later, Freeside)

The twelve-hour walk for Christine, Mark, and Veronica, the walk was mostly uneventful. There were some fiends and a cazador, but otherwise, they only stopped briefly to rest a few times. As they walked through Freeside, Mark chuckled. "What's so funny?" Veronica asked. "Well, it's just…I just remembered something. Do you remember the day we met at the 188?" She smiled. "Trust me, I won't soon forget the day that changed my life for the better." "Do you remember, right before we left, when I saw that kid, uh, the Forecaster? One of the things he said to me was about meeting you." That piqued her curiosity. "Oh, really now? What did he say?"

"Well, he said a few things, but there was one line in particular. He said, "Underground, and under a cloud, your meeting will be mutually beneficial." Seems fitting, doesn't it?" Veronica silently mouthed the words to herself, and then realization dawned on her. "The bunker, and the Sierra Madre, the Cloud, you think that's what he meant?" "I think so. At first I thought he just meant the clouds in the sky, but it fits. We did help each other out quite a bit." "Yeah, I guess we did." Then she said quietly to herself, "that's the second prediction that that kid's gotten right." "What was that?" Mark asked, not hearing her. "Uh, nothing. I was just wondering what this surprise of Amata's is." "Yeah, me too. She seemed pretty excited about it. We'll find out soon enough, I guess," Mark said, staring at the looming Lucky 38 in the distance.

(Same time, Lucky 38)

During the same twelve-hour period in the Lucky 38, Amata became increasingly nervous about seeing Mark, and what his reaction to Abby would be. Despite her constant reassurances to Abby that Mark was going to love her, there was still a nagging doubt in the back of her mind that he would reject her. So, after picking out what Abby would wear, Amata distracted herself by going into a cleaning frenzy. Arcade, after seeing her nearly biting his head off after he accidentally spilled some water, left to go see the Followers for a few hours to stay out of her way. Cass spent most of the day with Abby, using a spare room in the gym to show her how to properly shoot a pistol. Cass even gave her shotgun to Amata so she wouldn't be tempted to teach Abby how to shoot it, against Amata's wishes. Boone went…somewhere…for most of the day, but came back around 8.

She had tracked Mark all day, and true to his word, he did not deviate, except for resting a few times. It was now 9:20 PM, and Mark and Veronica were in Freeside, coming ever closer to the Strip. Amata and Abby were in the hallway, Cass and Arcade were talking in the kitchen, and Boone was shooting pool by himself in the game room. ED-E, as usual, was floating near Abby. Abby had been bathed, and was now wearing a very adorable light blue-colored shin-length cotton dress. She had matching bow in her hair, and was wearing white ballet flats. After doing her hair in a few different styles, Amata and Abby both decided to just let Abby's hair hang loose.

Amata wished she had clothes like these growing up, instead of just the vault suits. She counted herself lucky that she had access to them now. She herself was wearing a short-sleeve baby blue blouse with a v-neckline, blue jeans, and white sneakers. She also decided to let her hair hang loose. She preferred the ponytail, but she thought this look went better with her outfit.

Abby looked nervously at Amata while fidgeting with her dress. "You're- you're sure that he's going to like me?" Amata squatted down in front of Abby, fixing her dress, and flattening down a strand of hair. She gave Abby a reassuring smile. "Trust me, sweetheart, he is going to absolutely love you. You have nothing to worry about." She wasn't sure if that last part was meant to reassure herself as well. "I'll introduce you, and then all you have to do is be yourself, okay?" She nodded. "Okay, mommy." She then started pacing around the hallway, leaving Amata where she was, her eyes widening in response to what Abby just said. She saw Cass and Arcade come out of the kitchen.

She walked briskly over to Cass and dragged her back in the kitchen. Arcade briefly wondered what was going on, but decided not to butt in, figuring it was some woman thing, so he went to check on Abby. "'Mata, what's goin' on? Why'd ya drag me back in here?" Amata checked over her shoulder, and then spoke to Cass in a quiet, yet excited voice. "Cass, Abby just called me "mommy!"" Cass grinned and pulled Amata into a tight hug and then let her go. "Hey, that's great, 'Mata! I told ya that the two a ya had a connection." "I know, it's- I didn't think it would happen this quickly. I had thought that it would take a lot longer than this, but it feels great. No, great isn't the right word. Maybe exhilarating comes close, and I don't even know if that cuts it."

Amata started crying tears of joy. "I-I have a family of my own, Cass. I have a husband, a daughter, and another kid on the way. I've never felt such joy. Only Mark telling me he loved me for the first time can come close to rivaling this." "I'm happy fer ya, 'Mata, I really am, an' I'm glad ta be part a this family a yers." Amata wiped her tears away. "Yeah, you are part of this family. You and Veronica are like the sisters that I never had." "I feel tha same about ya, 'Mata. I really do." She pulled Amata in for another hug.

She checked her pip-boy. "Mark's in the casino." She ran out in the hallway, where Abby, Arcade, ED-E, and now Boone were waiting. Cass followed Amata out of the kitchen. "Okay, everyone, they're in the casino. Everyone get ready." Abby stopped pacing and stared at the elevator door. Amata stood behind her putting her hands on her shoulders. A little ways behind her, Cass stood between Arcade and Boone. "Five caps says he passes out when she tells him 'bout tha kid." "I'll take that bet," Arcade said.

The elevator dinged open. Mark stepped out first, followed by Christine and Veronica. Amata couldn't help herself. She ran towards him, and the second after he dropped his bag, she leapt into his arms, her arms going around his neck, and her legs wrapping around his waist. She then began to kiss him for all he was worth, Mark returning it with equal gusto. The momentum of Amata jumping into him had driven them into a wall, with Mark holding Amata against it. Everyone was now staring at them, neither group noticing the new addition to the other group.

Eventually, they stopped kissing, and gazed lovingly into each other's eyes, their foreheads touching. "Amata, you have no idea how much I've missed you." "I missed you too, Mark. Don't you ever do something stupid like that again. If you ever get the urge to follow a radio signal again, tell me to my face so I can shoot you in the leg." Mark chuckled, as did Amata. "Yes ma'am. I love you Amata Franklin." "I love you too, Mark Franklin." Cass cleared her throat, getting their attention. Mark looked over towards her, Arcade and Boone, and that was when he finally noticed Abby. "Uh, babe, who's the kid?" Amata looked a bit embarrassed as she detached herself from Mark and walked over behind Abby, who looked apprehensive.

"Mark, this is Abigail. She's our daughter." Mark looked at Abby, who gave him a nervous smile. "Ah, okay," was all he said before he fainted and fell backwards. Luckily, Veronica was near him and had the wherewithal to catch him. She then leaned him up against the wall. "Mark!" Amata yelled out. She ran over towards him, as did Arcade, who did a quick examination. "He's fine, everyone," Arcade announced, "he just passed out from shock, I believe."

Amata looked at Abby, who was frowning. "Abby, don't worry. This isn't your fault. It's mine. I should've given him a bit more of a warning. I don't think he expected my surprise to be a kid." "You're-you're sure?" "Yes, sweetie, I am absolutely sure." She saw Mark begin to stir. He blinked his eyes to get readjusted to the light. When he saw Amata, he smiled. "Hey, babe." "Hey yourself." "You know, I just had the weirdest dream. You told me we had a daughter, but I know that isn't possible, because I was only gone for a week, and you're only two months pregnant." "That wasn't a dream, Mark. We do have a daughter. I sort of adopted her while you were gone." Amata motioned for Abby to come over. "Mark Franklin, this is your adopted daughter, Abigail Celeste Fields, but she prefers to be called Abby." Mark sat up and smiled at the young girl, who was fidgeting with her dress.

"Hi, Abby. It's very nice to meet you." There was no response from Abby for a few moments, before she said, "It's nice to meet you too…Daddy." Amata was stunned. It took her five days for Abby to call her 'mommy,' and yet she called Mark 'daddy' upon meeting him. Maybe telling Abby about Mark was the right call. Mark got to one knee and held his arms open, inviting the girl in for a hug. She did, and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. Even Boone had a tear roll down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it away, and would deny anything about it if asked. "Welcome to the family, Abby. Has everyone here been treating you okay?" She pulled back a bit, not wanting to leave his arms, which made her feel safe.

"Yes, everyone has been treating me really nice." "Well, that's good to hear. I must say, you look quite lovely in that dress." She smiled. "Thank you. Mommy helped me pick it out." Mark leaned over and gave a quick kiss to Amata. "Well, Mommy does have great taste in clothes, and in men, too, if I might add." Amata lightly smacked Mark in the back of the head. "You're damn right I do." "Uh, Mark," Cass said, "I hate ta interrupt, but I think ya got an introduction ta make as well." Mark looked at Christine, who was standing a ways back, holding Veronica's hand, looking like she wanted to make a run for it. Mark stood up, taking Abby up along with him.

"Right, sorry. Everyone, this is Christine Royce. Christine, these folks are Craig Boone (Christine frowned when she saw the NCR beret), Arcade Gannon, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, but she prefers Cass, and the flying robot is ED-E." He put his free arm around Amata's waist. "This immaculately dressed woman is my wife, Mrs. Amata Franklin, and the young lady in my arms is my adopted daughter, Miss Abigail Celeste Fields." "It's nice to meet you, Christine," Amata said. Then she noticed Christine and Veronica holding hands. "Oh, are you and Veronica together? Are you two part of the same, um, organization?" "Yeah," Mark said, "that's a long story, one we probably only need to tell once." He looked at Abby. "And it's a story that probably isn't appropriate for a child's ears."

Amata nodded. "Come on Abby, it's already past your bedtime as it is." "But I'm not _tired_ ," she whined, pouting and giving Mark her best puppy dog face. Amata laughed and took her from Mark. "That's not gonna work, missy, and yes, you are tired, you just don't know it yet." Mark gave Abby a kiss on the cheek. "Just listen to her, Abby. It'll make it easier on everyone if you just do what she says. Trust me, I learned that the hard way." Amata kicked him in his right shin. "That's because I'm usually right. Abby, give your Daddy a kiss." Abby leaned over and kissed Mark on the cheek. "Goodnight, Daddy." "Goodnight, Abby. Sweet dreams." Amata and Abby made their way towards Abby's room. That was when the elevator dinged. This drew an automatic response from Mark, and everyone else besides Amata, drawing their weapons. Seeing as everyone was already here, they were prepared for an intruder when Victor rolled out into the hallway.

"It's okay, everyone. Lower your weapons. It's just Victor." Christine, who was new and had never seen Victor, took some additional prodding to get her to lower her weapon. "Hello, Victor," Mark said, "I assume that House wants to see me?" "You're darn tootin' he does. He ain't thrilled with ya, and I'm here ta take ya by force if necessary." "No need for that, Victor. I'll come quietly." "Mark?" Mark turned around and looked at Amata and Abby, who both looked concerned.

Mark and Amata then had a silent conversation, a type of conversation that only two people who knew each other for as long and as well as the two of them did could have. Amata nodded, and then looked at Abby. "Daddy'll be fine, sweetheart. Come on, I'll tell you one of my favorite stories from when I was a kid." They started heading towards Abby's room again, while Mark followed Victor into the elevator, seeing the look of concern on his friends faces as the door closed.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**


	49. Chapter 49: Trouble On The Homefront

Once the door to the penthouse opened, Victor shoved Mark out, the door then closing behind him. "Not really necessary, Victor," Mark said to himself as he walked to House's office, "I came of my own accord. It wasn't like I was going to back out." He walked in front of the giant computer, House's face already on screen. "I believe that we have an agreement in place, do we not, Mr. Franklin?" "We still do, House, as far as I know." Mark took a quick glance around the room, getting an extremely bad vibe from the multiple securitrons facing him.

"Good. I assumed that you had forgotten, because I have no record of you ever entering Gomorrah since I gave you this assignment over a week ago. And do not try to tell me that you have. I have eyes and ears everywhere, so lying is pointless." "Well, the thing is, House, Veronica and I-" House interrupted him. "Mr. Franklin, I do not care for your excuses. I care about results. When I give you an assignment, I expect you to complete it in a timely manner. Given that Gomorrah is right across the street, it should not be taking you this long. I pay you handsomely and allow your friends to stay in the most luxurious rooms in existence, pre- or post-war. I gave these to you because I expect you to get things done. I am not used to people ignoring my orders."

Mark stared down House. He realized that any further attempts to tell House about being abducted would be pointless. He didn't really expect to work in the first place, but he figured it was worth a shot. "It'll get done, House. You can count on it." There was silence for a moment. "Mr. Franklin, you have until the end of the day tomorrow to get it done. Otherwise I will consider you and all of your friends to be…expendable. It would be a shame if anything happened to that lovely wife and daughter of yours now, wouldn't it?" That threat was left hanging in the air as House's face disappeared from the monitor.

Mark continued to stare at the blank monitor. His face was calm, but inside he was angry beyond comprehension. If House wanted to threaten him, that was fine. He could take it. It was the fact that he implicitly threatened to harm Abby and Amata that made him want to shoot everything in sight. True, Abby had been a bit of a shock, but in the brief time that he had with her, he had already become enamored with the young girl. The feelings he got when she called him 'daddy', and then hugged him, were indescribable. He knew already that he would never get tired of either of those occurrences happening again. House had also threatened the love of his life, the woman who was carrying his child, the physical manifestation of their love for each other.

He had agreed to work for House because he wanted to keep Amata safe first and foremost. But if House was threatening to hurt his loved ones to force compliance, then he would have to re-evaluate things. Mark shook his head, realizing that he had been standing in the same spot and staring at a blank monitor for the past couple of minutes. He turned around on the spot and headed back to the elevator before he did something that he would end up regretting.

When he got back down to the Presidential Suite, he found Cass leaning up against a wall, and saw Amata just come out of what he assumed was now Abby's room. Amata walked over to him and went to kiss him, when she noticed that he looked upset. To the outside observer, he looked calm, but she could always tell when something troubled him. "You look upset. What happened?" Mark took a calming breath. "I'll tell you later. Where is everyone?" "In tha kitchen, Captain," Cass said. "We're waitin' fer ya ta tell us where ya'll been. Veronica insisted that we wait fer ya." Mark nodded and picked his bag off of the floor. "Is Abby asleep, babe?" Amata beamed. "Yeah. You should see her. All snuggled up with her teddy bear. I swear, it is _the_ most adorable thing that I've ever seen."

"Wait, you gave her Teddy?" Amata nodded. "She needed it, Mark. She needed it a lot more than I did." "Well, she must be special. You love that thing." "Well, I love Abby, and you, more. Besides, it's just a thing, and I am an adult. Eventually, you have to let go of childish things." He kissed her. "Well said, babe. Alright, you guys head into the kitchen. I'm gonna get changed and then I'll meet you in there." As Cass and Amata started to walk to the kitchen, he grabbed Amata's arm and held her back. "Do you have your pistol on you?" Mark asked her quietly. She looked confused as she lifted the right side of her shirt up, revealing her holstered pistol. "Yeah, why?" Mark looked in the direction of the kitchen.

"I think Veronica's gonna tell the rest of them about being part of the you-know-what, and Christine is, too, so just keep a hand on it." Amata looked in the direction of the kitchen and nodded. "Alright. I'll meet you in there." She gave him a quick kiss, and then headed into the kitchen. Mark went into his room, and a few minutes later, came back out and found ED-E floating in front of Abby's room. "Hey, buddy. Thanks for keeping an eye on my girl. Well, girls, now, I guess. I knew that I trusted the right floating robot." ED-E beeped a couple of times, and Mark smiled and patted the robot. He then made his way into the kitchen.

At one end of the long kitchen table, to his left, sat Veronica and Christine, holding hands. At the other end, to his right, were Arcade, Boone, and Cass. Amata had sat close to the middle, so Mark sat down to her right. "Ok. Cass, Boone, Arcade, Amata, you're probably wondering where we've been for the past week, as well as where we met Christine. It's a bit of a long story, so settle in. It began when-" Veronica interrupted him. "Actually, Mark, before we start, I have an announcement to make, one I was planning to make a week ago." Mark quickly whispered something to Amata. She nodded, and kept her hand on her pistol. Mark did the same with his pistol, keeping his eyes on Boone.

"When we met at the 188, except for Arcade, of course, I told you all that I was a 'procurement specialist.' That is true, or was true. I'm not really sure anymore. Anyway, what I didn't tell you was who I worked for." She paused, closed her eyes, and took a couple of deep breaths. "Up until five days ago, when I disavowed them, I was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel, and Christine still is." In the following moments, a few things happened. Boone immediately stood up and aimed his pistol at Christine or Veronica, Mark wasn't exactly sure which one. Christine stood up and aimed the LAER she had taken from Elijah at Boone. Veronica stood, but did not draw a weapon. Arcade and Cass ducked under the table. Amata stood and aimed her pistol at Christine, while Mark stood and aimed his at Boone.

There was a tense silence for a few moments. Mark then spoke, hoping to defuse the situation. "Ok, everyone, I think that everyone needs to take a breath, and more importantly, lower your weapons before something happens that you didn't mean to happen." "They're Brotherhood!" Boone shouted. "Do you know what they've done?!" "Oh, like the NCR is so perfect," Christine said snidely. "No," Boone said, "but at least we don't steal from people just because they have a piece of tech. You have **no** right to do that." "No, you steal from them by overtaxing them and you expand so fast that you can't even protect you own roads or citizens," Christine retorted. They both then shouted at each other at the same time, making their words unintelligible. "ENOUGH!" Mark shouted.

"Yes, both organizations have their flaws, and if you want, we can sit down and discuss that like adults, without the use of firearms." Amata jumped in. "And I just put Abby to bed, and if she wakes up, there will be hell to pay, and don't think for one second that I am joking." The look in her eyes and the tone of her voice made it clear to everyone that she wasn't. Boone looked at Mark. "Did you know?" "Did I know what, Boone?" "Did you know that she was Brotherhood?" he asked, indicating Veronica. After a few moments of indecision, he nodded. "How come she told ya and not us?" Cass asked. Cass and Arcade were now peeking above the table.

Mark sighed. He doubted an evasive answer would work right now, so he decided to tell them the truth. "Look, back east, I helped the Brotherhood with something, and before you say anything, Boone, that chapter is different. They actually protect the people. I helped them out, and they granted me honorary membership. I recognized her robe. The only reason Veronica didn't tell you was because she was worried about how everyone would react. Right, Veronica?" All eyes were now on Veronica, except for Mark's. Veronica nodded. "It's true. Everything that Mark just said is true. Their Elder broke ranks with Lost Hills. But like I said before, I disavowed them. Mark and Christine can testify to that fact." "Why?" Amata asked.

"Mommy? Daddy?"

All eyes turned to see Abby, leaning against the doorway, wearing a light blue nightgown and hugging her teddy bear. "What's going on?" "Uh, nothing, sweetheart," Mark said. "Amata, why don't you take her back to bed?" Amata narrowed her eyes and looked around the room, silently promising that she would make good on her threat. She handed her pistol to Mark, so now he had one pointing in each direction. Amata walked over and picked up Abby. "Come on sweetheart. Everything's gonna be fine." As soon as they left the room, Mark took a look around. "Ok. Emotions are running high right now, so our story isn't gonna happen tonight. So here's what **is** going to happen."

"We're gonna try again in the morning, when everyone has cooled off and had a chance to digest everything that's been said tonight. Right now, however, we're all gonna go in our separate rooms for the night. If you don't comply, I will shoot you, and I am not kidding. I just had an interesting conversation with House, and I'm in a 'shoot first, ask questions later' kinda mood. Arcade, Cass, go." Mark motioned towards the door with his right hand. Neither of them needed any additional prodding, and got up and ran out of the room.

Once Mark heard two doors close, he spoke again. "Alright. If there are any more incidents tonight, I will unleash Amata upon all three of you. Trust me when I tell you that she can get violent if she needs to, and the hormones are only making it worse. When she gets angry, her temper can rival that of a deathclaw. Boone, go." Boone did not move. "Boone! Go! Now!" Boone finally took the hint, and slowly walked out of the room, keeping his pistol aimed at Christine and Veronica as he went. Once Boone had gone into his room, Mark looked at Christine and Veronica.

"Both of you, go." Veronica spoke. "Mark-" "Uh uh. Not tonight. Just go, please. I'm not in the mood right now." Both Veronica and Christine had solemn looks on their faces as they left the room. Once they went in Veronica's room, Mark exhaled and holstered his pistol, and then massaged his temple. "Great. Now I have to be a goddamn peacekeeper."

He walked down to Abby's room, and Amata came out as soon as he went to open it. He caught sight of Abby snuggled up with her teddy bear, and he smiled. Amata then turned off the light and shut the door. "She's adorable, isn't she, daddy?" "She sure is, mommy." She glanced in the direction of the kitchen. "What happened with the others?" Amata asked. "I sent them all to their rooms for the night. Emotions were running too high for the story tonight, so we'll try again in the morning." They went into their room and shut the door, and then sat on the bed after they both disarmed. Amata snuggled close to him.

"So," Mark said, "tell me how you came to adopt Abby." She told him about that day, starting with her meeting with the King, then to finding Abby, taking her to the Followers, and then the decision she made to adopt her. "I couldn't just abandon her, Mark," she concluded. "I know you, and if you were there, you would have done the same thing." He contemplated it for a moment. "Yeah, you're right. I probably would've." "I mean, you always wanted a family of your own, and I know it happened sooner than we expected, but I don't regret that decision, Mark. I know it's only been about a week, but I love her so much."

Mark kissed her. "That's why I love you, babe. You have such an amazing capacity for love and kindness." He paused for a couple of moments, and then a goofy grin spread across his face. "She called me daddy, Amata. It's like the greatest feeling in the world." "I know what you mean, Mark. She called me mommy for the first time right before you came up, and I couldn't believe it. I don't think that I'll ever get tired of hearing that." "And I'll never get tired of being called daddy, either. And that smile. There's just something about it that makes you feel all warm inside." Amata smirked at him. "Well, it sounds like she's already got her daddy wrapped around her little finger." Mark laughed. "Yeah, I think she does." They were silent for a few minutes as they enjoyed being in each other's embrace.

"Well," Mark said eventually, "I think I'm gonna go take a shower." He stood up and stretched. Amata got up as well, and took off her shirt, revealing her chest covered by a lacy dark blue bra. "Well, I think that I'll join you. If I remember correctly, you _do_ owe me a dual shower." Mark could only grunt in reply, transfixed by Amata's beauty. She grinned. "You like it?" Mark nodded dumbly. "Well, if you like that, then you'll love this." She then turned around and slowly took off her jeans, revealing her shapely posterior in a matching pair of panties. Mark couldn't stand it anymore. He grabbed Amata by the wrist, and dragged her into the bathroom, Amata laughing as they went.

(7:30 AM, the next morning)

The next morning found Mark in the kitchen, cooking some eggs while quietly singing the song, "Mighty, Mighty, Man." Last night's shower had been very enjoyable for the both of them, although they both came out a bit dirtier than when they went in. After that, Mark had told Amata what House had said to him. She was a bit worried, but Mark told her that there was no way that he would let House hurt her or Abby. Amata had told Mark about everything else that had happened when he was gone, including her confrontation with Boone.

Mark had had an idea on how to handle the problems between Boone and Christine, so he ran it by Amata to get her input. He didn't think that she would approve of it, given the nature of it, but she actually decided that it was a good idea. She would help him get the two of them where he needed them to be. She felt that the both of them deserved it.

" _Well, I'm a mighty, mighty man_

 _I'm young and I'm in my prime_

 _Yes, I'm a mighty, mighty man_

 _I'm young and I'm in my prime_

 _Well, I'm willing, I'm able,_

 _I'm practically much alive…"_

He then saw Abby standing in the doorway, holding her teddy bear while rubbing her eyes. ED-E floated above her. "Morning, daddy." "Good morning, Abby. I didn't wake you, did I?" She shook her head. "No. What were you singing?" "Oh, nothing, just an old song from back east. Take a seat, and we can have some eggs." She sat down in a chair, and put her teddy bear in the chair to her right. "Did you sleep well, sweetheart?" Mark asked as he put the eggs on a couple of plates. "Yes I did, thank you. Where's mommy?" Mark put the plates and forks on the table and went to make a couple of glasses of water. "Mommy's still sleeping, sweetheart."

Abby looked out into the hallway. "Oh. Should I go wake her up so she can eat with us?" Mark put the glasses on the table. "Nah, let's just let her sleep. She's been under a lot of stress lately." He sat down on her left and gave her a kiss. "Besides, between you and me, mommy can be kind of cranky when she doesn't get enough sleep." Abby giggled. Mark smiled. He would never get tired of that. "Eat up, Abby," Mark said as he began to eat. They both began to eat in a companionable silence for a couple of minutes before Abby spoke again. "Daddy, can I ask you a question?" "Sure, Abby, go ahead."

"Um, what happened last night? Mister Boone and Miss Christine seemed mad at each other." Mark was a bit surprised at how perceptive Abby was. "Well, Abby, they're both part of organizations that aren't on great terms with each other. They just need some time to adjust to being around one another. Don't you worry, though. I've got a solution to hopefully help speed up that process. OK?" Abby nodded, and they continued to eat. "Daddy, can I ask you another question?" "Sweetheart, you can ask me as many questions as you want. That's how you learn things. Never be afraid to ask a question. You'll be better off in the long run."

"Ok. Why did- why did you and mommy leave where you used to live?" That gave Mark pause. Did she mean Goodsprings, or did she mean DC? "What do you mean by 'where we used to live,' sweetheart?" "Mommy said you came from a place called, um, Washington, DC, and that it was really far away. Why did you leave?" Mark stared out the balcony door as he thought about what he should tell her. He could tell her that both of her grandfathers were both kind of liars, although one was forced to be by the other, which led him to be forced out of the vault and into the wasteland laughably underprepared to face it, which left mommy to deal with her psycho father. Then, while she was dealing with that, daddy became a reluctant hero in a completely unforgiving wasteland, eventually coming back to the vault to save it, only to be thrown out by mommy, which made daddy nearly make the stupidest decision of his life by leaving mommy behind.

He could have told her all of that, but he decided to put a pin in that, and tell her when she could likely handle it better. So he decided to tell her something akin to the truth. "Well, mommy's and daddy's lives became…well, let's say complicated. We decided that we needed to start over and simplify things, so we came out here with the help of some of daddy's friends. That led us to meeting you, so I think it's one of the best decisions that we ever made." Abby beamed, and Mark ruffled her hair. After another minute or so, she spoke again.

"Daddy, how are babies made?" Mark choked on the water he was drinking. Once he stopped choking, he looked at Abby. "Are you asking because of mommy, sweetheart?" "Yeah, I mean, I know it's in mommy's tummy, but how does it get there?" "Yeah, Mark," came a voice from the doorway, "how _does_ it get there?" He turned and looked to see Veronica, wearing sweatpants and a white t-shirt. She still looked weird to Mark without her robe. She sat down across from them. "Well, um, you see sweetheart, babies, they, um, boy is it hot in here or is it just me?" "Oh, it's just you, Mark," Veronica said, smirking at him. She enjoyed watching Mark squirm a bit. Abby looked at him expectantly. "Tell you what sweetheart. Why don't you ask mommy later? She's a lot smarter than I am. But for now, I do believe that you and that lady over there need to get properly acquainted. Go say hello to your Auntie Veronica."

Abby stood and walked around the table to Veronica. Veronica got out of the chair and went down to one knee. "Hi, Abby, it's very nice to meet you. My name is Veronica Renata Santangelo." She held out a hand for Abby to shake. Abby, however, bypassed that and hugged her. "Hi, Auntie Veronica, my name is Abigail Celeste Fields." Mark saw Veronica's eyes tearing up as she held the hug. Abby released the hug and Veronica wiped away her tears. "Well, Abby, I just know that we are going to be the best of friends. Would you like that?" Abby nodded. "That's great. How about you just call me 'Auntie Ronnie,' though. Auntie Veronica's kind of a mouthful." "Okay, Auntie Ronnie." Veronica smiled.

"Wanna go have some fun, Abby?" Veronica asked. Abby smiled and nodded. "Well that's great, because your daddy said that I get to teach you how to punch things." Mark jumped in. "Yes, in self-defense _only._ I don't want you going around punching people for no reason. I don't need your mother yelling at me." Veronica mock-pouted. "Aww, come on Mark. You're taking all the fun out of it." "Yeah, daddy, don't be such a sourpuss." "Wow. I was not aware that I had two kids already," Mark said in a faux-astonished tone. "Don't start, either of you. Veronica, why don't you just show her how to properly stretch herself out first. Then show her the proper form for each kind of punch. I know that you know that that's how they start in Brotherhood training, and that's what I want you to do for now. Once she has that down, we'll talk about actually hitting things. OK?"

Veronica saluted him. "Aye, aye, Captain Sourpuss." Abby broke out in a fit of giggles, as did Veronica, while Mark smiled and rolled his eyes. "Come on, Abby," Veronica said, "I'll race you to your room. Last one there's a smelly brahmin!" Abby then dashed around the table. Veronica went to follow her, but as she was running, Abby had moved a chair in Veronica's path, and Veronica tripped over it, crashing to the ground in a heap. Abby giggled and ran out of the room, ED-E following her. "Hey, that's cheating!" Veronica called out. Mark broke out in raucous laughter. Veronica picked herself up and glared at him. "Hey, aren't you gonna reprimand her or something?"

"Nope. Mainly because it was so goddamn funny." "Yeah, it's real hilarious how I almost broke my neck." "Oh, come on, I thought you Brotherhood types were supposed to be tough." That remark bought Mark a punch in the arm, making him wince and Veronica smile. "You enjoy that bruise, tough guy." Mark watched her walk out into the hallway and point in the direction of Abby's room. "I see you, you little cheater. I'm coming for you!" She then ran out of Mark's sight. Mark chuckled as he got up and brought their dishes to the sink.

It was about thirty seconds later when Arcade came into the kitchen. "Hey Mark, do you know why Veronica is chasing Abby around her room?" "It's nothing, Arcade. They're just playing." "Ah, okay. Oh, hey, um, in all of last night's, well, excitement, I guess you could call it, I never got the chance to tell you that I've made a breakthrough with my research." Mark finished washing the dishes and wiped his hands. "Hey, that's great, Arcade. Listen, I need you to come down to the gym with me to help me out with something, and while we do that, you can tell me all about it. Oh, and bring your medical bag, if you wouldn't mind. Things are gonna get messy."

(One hour later)

Mark and Arcade were in the gym, near the reception desk, talking, while they waited for Amata to shepherd Boone and Christine down here. Arcade had just finished telling Mark about the breakthrough that he made on his research. Mark slapped Arcade on the back. "Hey, that's great, Arcade. I knew that you could do it." Arcade waved it off. "All the thanks should go to you. If I hadn't gotten access to the lab, it would've taken years before I got the same result." "Arcade," Mark said, "I didn't do any research. You did. All the credit goes to you. This is your work, not mine."

Arcade went to respond, but at that moment, the elevator dinged open. "Showtime," Mark said as he walked near the elevator. Boone and Christine stepped out, clearly not comfortable being in close quarters with each other. Although in Christine's case, her claustrophobia may have played a part in that. "Mark," Christine said, "why did your wife force us to get in the elevator and come down here?"

"You're both here because of what happened last night. Before we go any further, however, I'm gonna need both of you to surrender any weapons that you're carrying, and put them on the desk." "Why?" Christine asked. "So we don't have a repeat of what happened last night. So you either surrender them, or you can find another place to live." Eventually, they both surrendered their weapons. Mark clapped his hands. "Wonderful. You can have those back when we're done. Now, follow me." Mark led them to the area of the gym reserved for boxing. In the ring, in two corners, were a set of gloves and protective headgear. "What are we doing here, Franklin?" Boone asked, speaking for the first time. "Arcade, shut the door please." Arcade walked over and shut and locked the door to the room.

"We're here because of what happened last night. You two are clearly mad at each other because of the organizations that you belong to, so-" "Wait," Christine interrupted, "why isn't Veronica down here too?" "A, because she is no longer a member of the Brotherhood. B, she and Boone have worked together and been around each other, so I don't think that she's part of the problem Boone has. Am I right, Boone?" Boone only grunted, and Mark took that as confirmation. "And C, she didn't point a gun at Boone last night. You did. Any other questions?" She shook her head, so Mark continued.

"Everyone seems to see me as the leader of this little group, so I've decided to start acting like, as Cass keep calling me, the "Captain." Sometimes the leader needs to make difficult decisions for the good of the entire team. So here's what's gonna happen. You two need to get the anger out of your systems, and this is the safest way that I can think of for you to do it. We're a team, and while teams can have disagreements, what happened last night is unacceptable. You two could've accidentally shot someone, like Amata or Abby. This way, we can work together without me having to worry if one of you is going to shoot the other. You are adults, so you need to start acting like it. I want Abby to see that people from different backgrounds can work together. It'll be a nice life lesson for her."

"So here are the rules. You two are gonna fight. You will fight until one or neither of you is able to stand before I count to ten, like they did before the war. The only other way the fight will stop is if Arcade thinks that one of you is in mortal peril. That's why I asked him to be here. Well, that, and to patch you up once this thing is over. As before, if you refuse to participate, I will ask you to leave the building altogether, and you can find another place to live. Do either of you refuse to participate?" Both Christine and Boone glared at each other. "I'm in," Christine said. "So am I," replied Boone.

"Great. Take a few minutes to stretch, and then we'll help you guys get geared up." About ten minutes later, Arcade was helping Boone get geared up, while Mark did the same for Christine. Once they were both ready, Mark walked to the center of the ring, and motioned for Boone and Christine to join him. "Alright, you two. Get it all out of your systems now. If anything like last night happens again, I will be very angry, and you will not like me when I'm angry. Go back to your corners, and come out when the bell rings. Oh, and Christine, keep everything above the belt."

They both retreated to their corners, both of them continuing to glare at each other. Mark walked out of the ring, and near a table with a bell on it. After pausing for a moment, he rang it three times, signaling the start of the fight. As they came out and started to circle each other, Mark grabbed a stool and sat next to Arcade, who was about fifteen feet from the ring. "I still don't think this is a good idea," Arcade said while staring at the ring. "I don't think it is either, Arcade, but this needs to end before it escalates any further."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**


	50. Chapter 50: Wounded

**Author's Note: This story has now surpassed 30,000 views. I would just like to thank each and every one of you for your continued support. Please enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**

"8…9…10." Mark rang the bell, signaling the end of the fight. "Alright you two, fights over." It had taken about twenty-five minutes or so, but Boone and Christine had beaten the crap out of each other. It had been interesting to see the two of them fight. Boone seemed to be a brawler, while Christine opted for more of a finesse approach. There were points earlier in the fight where Mark had nearly gotten to ten when one of them had fallen, but either through stubbornness, or sheer force of will, they continued to fight. Probably a bit of both.

Blood had been spilled, copious amounts of sweat had fallen, and Mark thought that he had seen a tooth fly out, although he may have just been imagining it. Arcade, while initially reluctant about the fight, actually seemed to settle in and enjoy it some. He even told Mark about what he knew about boxing from before the war, including some famous fights. When Mark asked him how he knew about them, he told Mark about how the Followers had established their headquarters in the former Los Angeles Public Library in the Boneyard, and their books and databases were still somewhat intact. He had studied there for a while, and read about a multitude of subjects, including pre-war sports.

In the end, there was no winner, which was what Mark had wanted in the first place. They had both landed one final punch on each other at the same time, knocking both of them to the ground. Boone was sitting against the ropes, using them for support. Christine was lying on her stomach near the center of the ring, trying to crawl to the ropes, but her efforts were unsuccessful. Arcade grabbed his medical bag and got in the ring, first checking Christine, and then Boone. After he had done his initial assessments, Mark joined him in the ring.

"What's the word, Arcade?" "Well," he said as he held a cloth to Boone's mouth, "there are multiple cuts and bruises, and Boone here lost a tooth, but they'll both survive." "Wonderful. Thank you for your assistance, Arcade." He then turned his attention to Boone and Christine. "You two get the anger out of your systems?" He got a weak "uh huh" from Christine, while only getting a groan from Boone.

"Good. Now I expect that what happened last night will never happen again. Oh, and I have good news for the both of you. Neither of you will face Amata's wrath over last night. She agreed that this would suffice as punishment enough for the both of you. Consider yourselves lucky on that front. Arcade, get them cleaned up, if you wouldn't mind. I expect all of you to be in the kitchen in one hour so we can tell our story." That elicited painful groans from the two combatants. Mark then hopped out of the ring, unlocked the door, and headed towards the elevator.

(20 minutes earlier, Presidential Suite)

"Wait, they're doing what now?" Amata and Veronica were sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, eating breakfast. Abby was off to the side, practicing the punches that Veronica had shown her. "You heard me, Veronica," Amata said, pointing a fork in Veronica's direction. "They're currently beating each other up in a boxing match to get the anger out of their systems, and partially as punishment for their actions last night." "And this was Mark's idea?" "Yes, but he was kind enough to run it by me first, and I okayed it. He thought I may not like it, due to its violent nature, but I agreed with him that this was the safest way for them to do it."

"You couldn't think of any other way? I mean, I agree that something needed to be done, but I kinda like Christine's face as it is." "Auntie Ronnie," Abby called out, stopping punching for a moment to catch her breath, "how am I doing?" "You're doing great, kid," Veronica said, without looking away from Amata. "You're not even _looking!"_ Abby complained, huffing and putting her hands on her hips. "No, I am. I can see you in my peripheral vision. Really nice form on that last jab. Keep going." Abby rolled her eyes and continued to practice. Amata snickered. "Well, to answer your question, can you think of a better way?" Veronica thought for a few moments. "Uh, no, not really. Ok, maybe this is the safest way."

"Yeah. Mark and I talked last night. We need to be able to work as a team. If they are continually hostile to each other, that can't happen. We need to be able to focus on the mission at hand, not whether the two of them are going to shoot each other. It would only be a matter of time before Mark kicks them out or shoots them, or both, for being a hindrance. Since everyone believes him to be in charge of this group, or team, or whatever we are, he sees it as his responsibility to make sure we can at least tolerate each other." She took a sip of water and grinned. "I kind of like it when he takes charge." Veronica sensed an opportunity to mess with Amata. "Oh, and does your liking when he takes charge extend to the, uh, _bedroom,_ in any way?" Veronica said, smiling and waggling her eyebrows. Amata blushed. "Veronica! I am not talking about my," she lowered her voice so Abby wouldn't hear, and leaned over the table slightly, "about my sex life in front of Abby."

"Fine, fine. We'll talk about it tonight, when Abby's in bed." "That's not what I-" Veronica began to laugh. Amata groaned and covered her face with her hands. "I hate you so much." "Oh, you know you love me." Amata was saved from any further embarrassment for the moment when Abby came over and tugged on Veronica's sleeve. "How'd I do, Auntie Ronnie?" She had a hopeful look on her face. "You did great, kid. We'll show your dad later, and then we'll see if you can start punching things." Abby smiled and pumped her fist. "Yes! I'm gonna be the best puncher EVER!" Amata and Veronica both laughed. "Well, Abby, I am currently the best puncher ever," Veronica said, "and I plan on it staying that way for a long, long, time." Abby stuck out her tongue at Veronica, who responded in kind. Amata stood up and put her dish in the sink.

"Ok, children, that's enough." "Hey, I am not a child," Veronica said indignantly. "At most I'm a child at heart." "Yeah, yeah, if you say so," Amata said. "Abby, I think you need a bath. You smell a little from all that working out." "Aww, come on, I don't smell that bad. Why do I need a bath? I took one yesterday." "Well, I believe your daddy would like it if you smelled nice. I also believe that he has a present for you, but he doesn't usually give presents to little girls who don't take their baths." Abby looked gleeful at the thought of getting a present. "A present? For me?" "Yup, but since you don't want to take a bath, I _guess_ I'll tell him not to give it to you." Abby got a panicked look on her face. "No, no, I'll go, I'll go. See? I'm going right now." She then dashed out of the room and into the hallway.

"A little reverse psychology. Nice. But, uh, what's this present? Mark didn't say anything to me or Abby earlier," Veronica inquired. "We talked about it last night. He'll give it to her when Craig and Christine are done and while they're getting patched up. As for what it is," Amata said as she walked to the doorway, "you'll just have to wait and see."

(30 minutes later/10 minutes after the fight ended)

Mark, Amata, Abby, and Veronica were gathered in Mark and Amata's room. Abby was sitting on the bed, bouncing up and down, waiting for her present. "Well, Abby, are you ready for your present?" Mark asked. Abby nodded eagerly. "Yes, daddy. I even took a bath, so I'm all nice and clean." Mark smiled. "Yes, I can tell. Mommy told me, and I'm glad you're listening to her like a big girl." Mark squatted down to get to Abby's eye level. "Now, as I understand it, while I was away, you beat mommy in a shooting contest."

"Yup," Abby said proudly, "I beat her good." That got a chuckle out of the adults in the room. "I'm proud of you Abby. You're continuing a proud tradition. Mommy could never beat me, either." That earned Mark a light slap on the back of the head. "What fantasy world are you living in where that's true?" Amata asked. "Ok, so she beat me sometimes." "You're damn right," Amata said under her breath. Mark stood up and walked over to the bookcase behind the desk, taking the BB gun off the top shelf. He looked at it with a touch of nostalgia.

"You know, Abby, my dad gave this to me on my tenth birthday, and it really meant a lot to me. He took the time to find the missing parts to make it fully functional, even though the parts were hard to find. Your mom and I, we had a lot of fun shooting this thing. As much as this meant to me as a gift back then, your mom has given me three gifts that mean a lot more to me than this ever did." Abby cocked her head to the side, a confused look on her face. "What did she give you, daddy?"

Mark looked lovingly at Amata, and then back to Abby. "She gave me three things that are irreplaceable. She gave me her love, she gave me, or will give me, actually, the child she is currently carrying…" He squatted back down. "…and she gave me you, Abby." Amata and Veronica teared up. "That's why I'm giving this to you. It's the closest thing to a family heirloom that I have." He handed it to Abby, who looked at it with wide eyes. "Enjoy it, Abby. I hope that it brings you as much joy as it did for your mom and me. Just be careful with it. I don't want you to shoot your eye out, kid." Mark stood up and stepped back a bit, and Amata came and hugged him from behind. Mark looked over his right shoulder and gave Amata a kiss. Veronica walked close to the two of them. "You got yourself a hell of a man, Amata," she said quietly. "I certainly do," Amata said, resting her chin on Mark's right shoulder.

They looked at Abby, who was still staring at the gun. "Well, Abby," Amata said, "what do you say to your dad?" Abby remained motionless for a few more moments, before she tossed the gun on the bed, and then got up and ran out of the room crying. "Abby-" the three of them called out at the same time, but she did not return. They then heard a door slam. Mark looked at Amata, the confusion evident on his face. "Was it something that I said?" Amata sighed. "No, Mark. While you were gone, she told me that she used to have one, and you giving it to her may have triggered flashbacks to when she got the first one from her birth parents, and probably when they were killed. It may have gotten stolen or lost. I should've realized that this might happen last night when you told me what you were going to do."

Mark sat down on the bed and stared at the ground. "Great. I fucked up already. I just wanted to do something nice for her, and all I did was make her re-live the worst day of her life." Amata sat down next to him. "Mark, you didn't mess up." "Amata, she ran out of here crying because of something that I did. How can you say I didn't mess up?"

"Mark, what you **did** was give her a gift. She's still trying to get over her parents being killed, which you **did not** have a hand in. If it wasn't the gun, something else could've set her off. She hasn't talked about what happened to her birth parents, and until she does, things like this are going to occur." Mark looked at her. "I know that I didn't kill her parents, but right now, I just-" He clenched his hands tightly into fists and scowled "-I just want to kill the bastard or bastards who did for hurting her."

"I know, Mark. I do too. The only thing that I don't understand is why something like this didn't happen when we had our contest the other day." "I think that I may have an answer to that, or at least a theory," Veronica said, sitting on the desk. "Like you said, Amata, Mark gave it to her, thereby making it hers. Before, it was just a BB gun that she just happened to be holding. I don't know a whole lot about psychology or anything, but I think that may be the reason, or pretty close. She also may feel guilty about losing the one her birth parents gave her."

"Thank you, Veronica. That actually does makes sense," Amata said. She then put a comforting hand on Mark's shoulder. "Mark, I think it's time to go see how good we are at being parents." Mark sighed. "This isn't going to be easy, is it?" Amata shook her head. "No, Mark, it's not. We're her parents now, and we have a responsibility to help her through this, and all the rough times she may go through." They both got up. "Did you guys, um, want me to come with you?" Veronica asked, glancing out the doorway, the concern for Abby evident on her face. Mark and Amata looked at each other for a couple of moments. "We appreciate the show of support, Veronica, but Amata and I need to do this on our own, at least this time," Mark said.

"Oh. Okay," Veronica said, looking a bit crestfallen at not being able to help her niece. Mark, having noticed this, said, "I'll tell you what though, Veronica. When she goes through puberty, you and Amata can deal with all the problems that that brings. I had enough issues dealing with it when Amata went through it. Talk about your feral beasts." Veronica laughed, while Amata glared at him. "Ok, Mark, sounds like a deal." Amata grabbed Mark by the ear and led him out of the room. "I'll show you a feral beast." "Ow, ow, ow, Amata, I was kidding! I was kidding! I thought you could take a joke!"

Amata released Mark as they got to Abby's room. ED-E was floating outside the door. They could hear her crying. Mark reached for the handle, but Amata smacked his hand away. "Mark, we can't just go in there. We have to at least knock first." "Why? We know she's in there." Amata rolled her eyes. "Because it's _her_ room. We have to afford her some courtesy. Remember when we were kids, and Butch would tease me so much that I would get upset and go cry in my room?" "Yeah, and I would come and make sure you were okay." "Well, you knocked on my door first, didn't you? Because you respected my privacy?" Mark ran a hand through his hair as he recalled those days. "Oh, yeah, right, I did."

Amata knocked a couple of times on the door. "Abby, sweetheart, are you okay?" "GO AWAY!" came a yell from inside the room. "Abby, something's obviously wrong. We're here to help." "I SAID GO AWAY!" Amata looked disheartened. "Alright," Mark said, "we tried it your way." Mark knocked on the door. "Abby, we respected your privacy by knocking, but we're asserting our authority as parents and coming in anyway." "Mark, no-" Amata tried to stop him, but he opened the door. The light was off in the room, but there was still some light coming in from the window. Mark turned on the light and saw Abby curled up in the fetal position, facing away from them.

They sat on either side of her, so to avoid looking at them, she turned to lie on her stomach, burying her face in the pillow, continuing to cry all the while. Amata put a hand on Abby's back and rubbed it gently. "Abby, we want to help you, but you need to tell us what's wrong." "NO!" came a muffled reply. Mark decided to be a bit more direct. "Abby, this wouldn't have anything to do with your parents being killed, would it?" Her crying intensified. Mark and Amata looked at each other. Amata motioned for him to continue. "Abby, I know that it's still a fresh wound for you, and you think that you can just bury it away deep inside you where it won't bother you, but eventually, it will come out." She did not respond, so he continued.

"Look, Abby, I'm sorry if giving you the gun reminded you of your parents. Your mom told me that you had so much fun with it, that I thought you might enjoy it as a gift. I didn't know that your birth parents had given you one. If you don't want it, you don't have to take it. I won't be upset if you don't." Abby stopped crying somewhat and rolled over to her side to face Mark. Her eyes were bloodshot, and there were tear tracks running down her face. "It- it's not the gun, well, not entirely." "Then what is it, Abby?" Amata asked, on the verge of tears herself. "Please, tell us. We can't help you if we don't know what the problem is."

"I'm scared, okay? I'm- I'm just scared. I'm a big scared baby. I'm not a big girl." She buried her head back in the pillow. "Abby, you are not a baby," Mark said, grabbing one of her hands to try to comfort her. "Admitting that you have fears is a very grown-up thing to do." "He's right, sweetie," Amata said. "Having fears does not mean that you're a baby. We all have fears. I have fears, your daddy has fears, your Auntie Cass and Auntie Ronnie have fears. Does that make us or them babies?" "No," came a muffled reply. Mark and Amata looked at each other for a couple moments. Mark nodded. "Maybe," Amata continued, "maybe it would help if we each told you one of our fears, then maybe, if you want to, you can tell us yours. Would that be okay with you?" Abby looked at Amata. "I-I guess."

Amata smiled. "Ok. I'll go first." She closed her eyes and tried to steel herself. "One of my biggest fears is that one day, I'm gonna wake up back in the vault, and this weird, crazy, wonderful life that I've had out here with your dad, will have all just been a dream." Tears fell down her face. She hadn't even admitted this to Mark when they were by themselves in Goodsprings. Abby sat up and gave Amata a hug. "Please don't cry mommy." Amata sniffed a couple of times. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I just can't help it." Mark had tears in his own eyes as he watched his girls hold one another. That thought brought a smile to his face. _His girls_. It sounded perfect.

Mark reached over and pinched Amata on the leg. "Ow! Mark, what was that for?" "Proving that you aren't in a dream. You can't feel pain in a dream. This weird, crazy, wonderful life with me? It is one hundred percent real, baby," Mark said with a sly smile. Amata chuckled, and wiped away her tears. "You always did know how to cheer me up." "You know it." Mark then motioned for Amata to hand Abby over to him. "Abby, I think your dad wants a turn to hold you. Thank you for the hug, though. I feel much better." "You're sure?" Abby asked. "Yes, I am extremely sure." Amata handed her over to Mark.

"Ok, Abby, now since your mom admitted one of her fears, it is only fair that I do the same. My biggest fear is that your mom, at some point, would realize that she doesn't actually love me." "Mark, that is never going to happen. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. I may want to strangle you sometimes, but I will never, ever stop loving you. Besides, I've invested too much time and effort into you. It'd be stupid of me to let some other woman take advantage of my work," Amata said, that last part a bit tongue-in-cheek. Mark chuckled, and they were both glad to see a small smile on Abby's face. "I know, but fears aren't always rational." Mark looked Abby square in the eyes. "Tell me Abby, do you think it was brave for your mom and I to admit our fears?" Abby nodded. "So, can you be brave for us and tell us why you're scared?"

Abby looked down at the bed, seemingly still hesitant. "Abby," Amata said, "we're not going to judge you. We're only going to listen. There is nothing that you could say that would make us think any less of you." Abby took a couple of calming breaths. "I-I'm scared of getting you guys killed." Mark and Amata looked at each other, both sporting confused looks. "Abby," Mark said, "why do you think that you're going to get us killed?" She didn't answer, burying her face in Mark's chest. Amata spoke. "Abby, do you think that because you think it was your fault that your parents were killed?" They got a muffled, "Yes."

"Abby, I'm sure that whatever happened, it wasn't your fault," Amata said. She looked at Amata. "Yes it is! I'm the reason that they're dead!" "Abby, look at me, please," Mark said. Abby looked in Mark's eyes. "Abby, you are not going to get us killed. Do you know how I know that?" The young girl shook her head. "I know because…well, tell me Abby, have you heard of the guy they call "The Courier?"" Amata suddenly realized what Mark was doing. Abby smiled. "Yeah! My, um, other daddy-" "Your birth father, sweetheart," Amata interrupted. "Right, well, he said that the Courier saves towns, and killed a bad man, and not even bullets could stop him! He's like a superhero!"

"Right, a superhero. Well, Abby, I have a secret that I want to share with you. Are you ready?" Abby nodded. He leaned in close to her. "I'm the Courier," he said in a loud whisper. Abby gasped, and her eyes widened. "Really?" "Yup. I did save a couple towns, and I did kill a bad man. You know why I killed that bad man?" She shook her head. "I did that because that bad man threatened your mother," he said, indicating Amata. "You see, Abby, there are two big rules to being a superhero. The first is that you must always protect the innocent. The second rule is that a superhero is never allowed to make promises that they know they can't keep."

"I swore to your mother that I would never let anything bad happen to her or our family if it was in my power to prevent it." Amata smiled. "He's right, Abby. He has never let anything bad happen to me, and I know that he never will. He is my hero, my knight in shining armor, and he always will be. He has come to my rescue many, many times." "So, Abby," Mark said, "When I tell you that you are not going to get us killed, you know it's true, because, as a superhero, I can't make a promise that I can't keep. OK?" Abby nodded and gave Mark a big hug. "This is so cool! My daddy's a superhero!" Mark and Amata laughed. "Yeah, he is, Abby."

"Now, Abby," Mark said, his voice becoming serious, "I know that you are a brave girl. I believe that you are brave enough to tell us…what happened to your parents." Abby's face fell, and tears were threatening to come out again. "Abby," Amata said, once again rubbing the girl's back, "I know that it hurts right now, but there is a saying that time heals all wounds, but those wounds need to be treated. If you don't talk about it, it won't heal. It'll just grow bigger. Please, tell us. Let us help you heal that wound. Like I said earlier, we're not going to judge you. Be the brave girl that we all know you are." She took one of Abby's hands in her own as Mark continued to hold her. Abby looked at Mark, and then Amata, who were both giving her reassuring smiles. "Ok," Abby said, "it happened like this…"

(9 days ago, 9:44 AM)

The day had started out like any other for the Fields family, a small family of three. There was the father, Christopher, or Chris Fields. Chris, 35, weighed about 195 lbs., was about 6' 1" tall, with short brown hair, brown eyes, and a two-inch scar on his right forearm that was from an incident with a bighorner in his teens. There was the mother, Hannah Fields, formerly Hannah Knight. Hannah, 31, weighed about 150 lbs., and measured 5' 8" tall. She had long blonde hair and had green eyes. Finally, there was the daughter, Abigail Fields. Abigail, 7, weighed just under 40 lbs., and was about 3' 9" tall. Her appearance was a nice mixture of her parents. She had Hannah's green eyes and blonde hair, but her facial features more closely resembled Chris'.

They lived in a small shack out near an old air force base, which was currently occupied by the group known as the "Boomers." Threats of death from heavy ordinance kept travelers and raiders alike away from the area. The shack they lived in was only one large room, containing three beds, a table, and a few chairs. There was a refrigerator that functioned thanks to an old generator that they kept outside, but ran the wires in from outside. That generator also powered the light hanging from the ceiling, and the hot plate that they used to cook their meals. They also had a couple of brahmin that they primarily used for milk in a pen near the house.

They had told Abby a bit about their lives before she was born. They were both from the NCR, Hannah from Shady Sands and Chris from The Hub. Hannah had come to the area eight years prior, wanting to see New Vegas. When she realized that she didn't have enough caps to get in, she instead volunteered her services with the Followers of the Apocalypse, assisting the doctors with whatever they needed. While she was not adept with medicine, she had a very kind bedside manner and provided a sympathetic ear to the patients. She found the work very rewarding. She had been there for three months when she met Chris.

She had been on break, sitting against the wall that separated Freeside from outer Vegas, looking out over the open desert. She noticed a caravan passing by, and she caught the eye of a guy with brown hair that she thought looked kind of cute. He came over to talk to her, not noticing his caravan leaving him behind. They got to talking and agreed to meet at the Crimson Caravan Compound later that night. That began a whirlwind romance for the pair, with Chris asking Hannah to marry him two weeks later. She resigned from the Followers, joining Chris on his travels. Eventually, after learning that Hannah was pregnant, they found a place to settle down. As Abby grew, Chris continued his work with the Crimson Caravan, staying on routes that kept him in or close to the Mojave. Hannah stayed at home, raising Abby and tending to the brahmin.

That fateful day found Abby shooting the BB gun she had gotten for her last birthday at a tarp they had hung for her to shoot at. Hannah had just brought in some milk in a bucket and put it in the fridge. She watched Abby shoot the gun, Chris standing behind her, both of them smiling. They had tried over the years to give Abby a brother or sister, but it was not meant to be, so they decided to be happy with the daughter that they had.

Chris gave Hannah a kiss, and then went over to kiss Abby, saying that he had to leave to pick up his payment from the Crimson Caravan for his last delivery and to get the order for his next one. Abby pouted. "Aww, do you have to? Can't you stay and shoot with me?" That elicited a chuckle from both of the adults. "Abby, sweetheart," Hannah said, "you know that your dad has a job to do." "No," Chris said, "it's alright, Hannah, honey, they can wait another hour or so. My darling daughter wants me to shoot with her. Who am I to deny such a request?" Abby's face lit up. "Yay!" she exclaimed.

A half hour or so had passed, father and daughter shooting the BB gun while Hannah watched. That was when they heard a noise from outside. Chris walked over to the window and looked outside at their brahmin pen. When he looked outside, he quickly turned around, a look of fear on his face. "Chris, what is it?" Hannah asked, becoming increasingly worried. "Raiders. Take Abby, go behind the bookshelf in the corner. I'll try and get them to leave." He kissed her and Abby quickly. "Whatever happens, I love the both of you." Hannah grabbed a 9 mm pistol and Abby, causing Abby to drop her gun. "Daddy, what's going on?" Abby asked as her mother took her behind the tall bookshelf.

Chris moved the bookshelf as close to the corner as possible. "Abby," Chris said, the worry evident his voice, "whatever happens, I need you to stay quiet, Ok? Can you do that for me?" Abby, not used to seeing her father act this way, but not wanting to disappoint him, said, "yes, daddy." That was when the door burst open. Hannah held Abby close, and kept her hand over Abby's mouth, just in case. They listened as Chris tried to tell the raiders to take whatever they wanted and leave, but they laughed at him, and there was a gunshot, apparently the one that ended Chris' life. They heard one of the raiders tell the others to loot the place. Fortunately, they did not look behind the bookshelf.

"Alright, we're done here. Torch the place." They heard the door close, and then they began to smell smoke. Hannah quickly moved the bookcase away from them, toppling it. "Abby, we've got to get out of here." She looked out a window. The raiders were heading towards the air force base. The smoke became thicker as the house started to become consumed by the flames. Hannah grabbed a sack of caps they kept hidden in a hole they had dug under a floorboard. She ran towards the door, Abby right behind her. Seeing Chris' body nearly drove her to tears, but she had to be strong for Abby. She opened the door. Abby, having noticed her father's body, stopped running and tried to shake him to try to wake him up. "Daddy? Daddy, wake up!" Hannah grabbed her hand. "Abby come on, we have to go! We can't do anything for him now."

Seeing her mother in a state of near-hysterics told her that this was a serious situation. Then she realized something. "Mommy, my gun! I have to get it!" "Abby, no, we don't have time!" "No, I want my gun!" Abby screamed, tears in her eyes. Hannah reluctantly relented. "Okay, Abby. Stay here. I'll get it." She ran back over towards where Abby had last had the gun, trying to wave away the smoke. Unfortunately, the roof partially collapsed right onto Hannah. "Mommy!" Abby screamed, running back in to get to her mother.

The section of roof had collapsed right onto Hannah's midsection and legs, appearing to have crushed the lower half of her body. She was coughing up blood, and she looked near death. Abby ran up and tried to lift the wood, but it was too heavy, even with Hannah helping her. Hannah coughed. "Abby, go. Run. Take the pistol and get out of here." "No! I'm not leaving you!" Hannah smiled at Abby and had tears in her eyes. She stroked Abby's face. "Abby, my big girl. I'm not gonna make it. You need to go. It'll be fine, sweetheart. I'll be with your dad again. My only regret is that I won't be around to see you grow up. Take the pistol and go, Abby. Please." Abby was crying. "Mommy, please, no, I need you! Please don't leave me!" The walls began to break down, and shards of wood were falling from the roof. "Abby, please go. Just know that your dad and I love you with all our hearts, and we will always be with you in spirit."

Hannah's body went limp as the life left her. "Mommy! No! Mommy, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry." She shook her mother's body, but to no avail. Seeing no other options, she grabbed the pistol and ran out of the open doorway, right before the roof and walls finally gave in. Abby ran, seeing the brahmin dead in their pen as she went. Once she got about fifty feet away, she turned to see that all that was left of her home was a flaming pile of wood. She looked around and saw New Vegas in the distance. She had heard her parents talk about it sometimes. Having no other options, remembering that going near the air force base was certain death, she started towards New Vegas, leaving all she knew behind.

(Present Day)

As Abby finished her story, all three of them were in tears, and they were now in a three-way hug. They stayed like that for a minute or so before Amata spoke. "Abby, I am so sorry that you had to see that. It must've been horrific for you." She gave Abby a kiss on the top of her head. "Abby," Mark said, trying to compose himself, "what happened, it wasn't your fault." "Yes it is! My dad's dead because I wanted him to stay, and my mom's dead because I wanted the gun. It's all my fault!" Mark and Amata realized that trying to convince her that it wasn't her fault was going to be difficult.

"Sweetheart," Mark continued, "there is no way that you could've known that those raiders would come when they did, and there is no way that you could've known that the roof was going to collapse at that exact moment. You can't blame yourself, and I doubt that your parents would blame you, either." Mark paused for a moment. "Look, Abby, I know what you're going through. I saw my dad die right before my eyes. He sacrificed his own life so that I would be able to live mine. I blamed myself for a while, too, but I had a good friend knock some sense into me, and she made me realize that there was nothing that I could've done, and there was nothing that you could've done either."

"The thing is, Abby, parents are supposed to protect their children. It's in the job description. My dad, he knew that he was going to die, yet he did it anyway. Your dad knew the risks of dealing with the raiders, and your mom knew the risks of going back in the building. They did those things because they loved you and wanted you to be happy, and I'm sure that they would do it again, given the same situation."

"Abby," Amata said, "remember the other day, when you had that dream about your parents?" Abby nodded. "Did you get a chance to say anything to them?" She shook her head. "It-it all happened so fast and-and then I woke up, so I didn't get to." "Well then," Amata continued, "I think we need to have a bit of a memorial service for your parents." Abby looked up at Amata. "Wh-what's that?" "A memorial service is, well, it's sort of a chance to say a final goodbye to our loved ones who have passed on. Like, if your parents were here right now, and you had one last chance to talk to them, what would you say?"

"I-I-I don't know. I don't know." "Well," Amata said, "how about your dad and I say something first? Here, I'll start." She broke off the hug, leaned back against the headboard, and looked up. "Mr. and Mrs. Fields, I know that we never met, but you seemed like good people. You would have to have been to raise such a wonderful daughter. Abby has been such a joy to be around, and has brightened up my life, and the lives of everyone here." That got a small smile out of Abby.

"You know, there is some dark humor in the fact that two of the most important people in my life only came into my life because others died. Even though Abby is not our biological daughter, we will treat her like our own. We will raise her the way that I believe that you would want her to be raised. To treat everyone fairly, and to try to see the best in everyone. I know that you are looking down on her, and that you are proud of her. We will make sure that she grows up into a woman that you can continue to be proud of."

Mark leaned over and kissed her. "That was beautiful, babe. Now it's my turn." He spoke, running a hand through Abby's hair as he did. "Chris, Hannah, even though I've only known Abby for less than a day, I already love her dearly. As long she is under my care, no harm will ever befall her, and she will never want for anything. That is my solemn promise to you. As my darling wife said, we will raise her like our own. She is surrounded by people who love her and care for her. You gave birth to her and raised her to be the person that she is today."

"You worked hard to make sure that she was happy, but your work is done now, and you have earned your rest. My wife and I, along with our friends, will finish the job that you started. You two set a high standard for excellence in parenting. I just hope that we can match what you've done, because Abby deserves nothing less than the best." Amata and Abby both had tears in their eyes. "That was wonderful, Mark. I knew that I married you for more than just your good looks." Mark chuckled, and then they both looked at Abby. "Sweetie," Amata said, "did you want to say anything?" "I-I don't know if I can. What you guys said was beautiful. How can I top that?"

"Abby," Mark said, "this is not a competition. You don't have to try and top anything. You just have to say what's in your heart. Your mom and I are both here for you." Abby squirmed out of Mark's arms, and sat between the two of them. Both Amata and Mark took one of Abby's hands, channeling all of their love and support into her. Abby took a couple of calming breaths, and then began to speak.

"Mommy, daddy, I…I miss you both. I'm beginning to understand that you probably don't blame me for what happened, but I still feel a little guilty. We didn't have much, but it was enough. Mommy, I miss how you would sing to me at night. Daddy, I miss your hugs, how they made me feel safe. My, um, my new mommy, she sings to me, too, and she sings just as well, and my new daddy's hugs make me feel safe and loved, too. Umm, I can read and write now, well, a little bit, at least. I'm getting better at it every day. You guys already know that my new mommy is pregnant. I hope that I can be a good big sister to him."

Amata and Mark noticed Abby start to smile as she continued to speak. "Everyone here is treating me really nice. Auntie Ronnie is teaching me how to punch things. She's really funny, and she's fun to play with. She's like a big kid. Auntie Cass tells me stories from when she caravanned, so I'm learning more about what you did, daddy. She's nice, but she does say weird things after she drinks a lot, though. I don't understand some of it, but I hope to one day. Um, Mister Arcade is a doctor. He, um, he works for the Followers, like you did, mommy. I wonder if you knew him." Mark made a mental note to ask Arcade about that later.

"He's teaching me all about medicine, so I'll be able to help people if I need to. Mister Boone and Miss Christine, I don't know them that well yet, but I hope to get to know them better. ED-E, he's a flying robot. He's so cool. He follows me everywhere, and he plays music whenever I want. The place we live, it's really nice, and I'm safe here, so you don't have to worry. I'm happy here, and I feel loved." She paused for a moment. "Mommy, daddy, I love you guys, and I will never, ever, ever forget you. I guess…this is goodbye. Although, my new mommy said that I'll get to see you again someday, so I guess it's not goodbye. More like…like see you later. Yeah, I'll see you guys later."

Amata and Mark each gave Abby a kiss on the cheek, and she giggled. "Abby," Amata said, with pride in her voice, "that was beautiful, and you sound so grown up." "Yeah, are you sure that you're only seven?" Mark teased a bit. "Yup." That made all three of them chuckle. "So Abby," Amata said, "how do you feel?" She thought for a moment. "I feel…I feel lighter. What does that mean? Is it good?" Amata nodded. "Yes, Abby, it is very good. It means that the wound that I talked about earlier is starting to heal." "Abby," Mark said, "if you ever need to talk about anything, like if something's bothering you, we'll always be around to listen. Or if we're not around for some reason, your Auntie Cass, Auntie Ronnie, or Mister Arcade, one of them will probably be around, and I'm sure they'll be glad to listen. Ok?"

Abby nodded. "Ok. Umm, daddy, I'm sorry about before. Can I- can I still have the gun?" Mark smiled and ruffled her hair. "You're forgiven, sweetheart, and yes, you can still have the gun, as long as you promise that you'll be careful with it." "I promise, daddy." "That's great, Abby," Amata said, "now come on, I think we need to wash your face. Mine, too, probably. Crying may be good for the soul, but not for your face." Amata stood up, picked up Abby, and went into the bathroom.

Mark smiled at them as he watched them enter the bathroom. As soon as they went in, however, his face took on a more focused look. He looked through the files on his pip-boy, searching for the financial records he copied from the computer in McLafferty's office. After about a minute, he found what he was looking for:

 _Christopher Fields- 95 caps owed_

Mark stared at that one line. Chris earned that money, but since he was no longer around to collect it, that money rightfully belonged to Abby as his next of kin. The only things that Abby was able to take with her were the clothes on her back and that pistol. The clothes had been trashed, and, according to Amata, the pistol wasn't in great condition and would need a good amount of repairs, or possibly just scrapped altogether. Everything else they had was probably destroyed by the fire, so she basically had next to nothing tangible from her old life.

That money wouldn't come anywhere close to replacing Chris' love, but he worked for that money with Abby and Hannah in mind, so in a way, it was **proof** of his love, and Mark was certain that Chris would want Abby to have it. Mark knew it was a bit of a stretch, but short of raising Chris and Hannah from the dead, it was the best that he would be able to do. 'McLafferty,' Mark thought, 'you and I now have a couple of accounts to settle.'

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Just as a bit of a fun fact, when I was first deciding what to name to give Abby, my final two choices for names were Hannah and Abigail, so I decided to make Hannah her mother.** **There is a reason I picked Abigail, and you'll see why in a future chapter. Until next time, and reviews, as always, are welcomed and appreciated.**


	51. Chapter 51: We Are Family, Part 1

Mark heard the water turn off, so he closed the file and stood up. The door opened, and Abby came out first, Amata trailing behind her. Both were smiling and had freshly washed faces. Mark smiled and walked over to them. "Ah, there are my beautiful girls." He leaned down and kissed Abby on the cheek, and then straightened up and gave Amata a kiss on the lips, holding it for a few seconds. "Mr. Franklin, you are too sweet," Amata said. She then got a playful look on her face. She glanced at Abby, who was watching them with interest, and then back at Mark.

"The question is, which one of us is more beautiful?" Abby giggled as Mark smiled and shook his head. "Amata, my dear, if being best friends with a girl, and being around that same girl nearly every day for close to twenty years has taught me anything, it is to never answer a question like that. No matter which way I answer, someone will be upset. I fell for it when I was younger and stupider, but I wised up rather quickly." "Mark-" Amata went to speak, but Mark put a finger to her lips. "Ah. All that I will say is this: you are both beautiful in your own ways. It's impossible for me to choose, so I won't." Amata smacked him lightly on the chest. "Mark, that's a cop-out, and you know it."

Mark nodded. "Yes, it sure is." Mark looked at Abby. "You see, Abby, your mom likes to try and catch me off-guard with these types of questions. What she fails to realize is that I've learned all of her tricks by now." Abby looked at Amata inquisitively. "Mommy, will you teach me your tricks?" Mark groaned and Amata laughed. "Sure, Abby," Amata said, "I'll teach you everything that I know, so you can use them on the boys that you date." Mark closed his eyes and clutched his chest, pretending to be in pain. "Oh, please don't talk about her dating please. Just the thought of it is giving me heart palpitations. I think I need to sit down."

Abby looked concerned. "Are you okay, daddy?" "Don't worry, Abby," Amata said, sitting down next to him, "he's just pretending." "Prove it," Mark said, opening one eye. "Aww, is the big, bad courier afraid of his daughter dating?" "Yes. Abby, all men are jerks. Except for your birth father, me, Mister Arcade and Mister Boone. The rest are complete and total jerks." "Abby, don't listen to him," Amata said, "there are still good men out there. He's just being overprotective."

Abby climbed into Mark's lap and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for looking out for me, daddy." Mark hugged her tightly and kissed her on the top of the head. "Always, Abby. Always," Mark said in a voice barely above a whisper. He then perked up. "Alright, enough talk of dating for now. Are you ready to face the others, Abby?" Abby smiled and nodded. "Good, because I think your Auntie Ronnie is chomping at the bit to see you. You wanna do the honors, babe?" "Sure thing, Mark." She raised her voice a bit. "Veronica, you can-" she was interrupted when the door flew open, and Veronica ran in. "-come in now," Amata finished quietly.

Veronica looked around for Abby, finally seeing her in Mark's arms. She walked briskly over to them, her arms outstretched. Mark handed Abby over to Veronica, who proceeded to hug the young girl tightly. "Oh, Abby! I was so worried about you. Are you okay? Come on, kiddo, talk to me." Mark noticed that Arcade and Cass had come in behind her. Abby said something, but Veronica couldn't understand her. "What was that, Abby?" Veronica asked. "Uh, Veronica," Arcade said, "I think she said that she needs to breathe." Abby nodded vigorously.

"Oh, sorry kiddo," she said guiltily. She loosened her grip. "It's okay, Auntie Ronnie." Veronica gave Abby a kiss on the cheek, and then looked at the faces of Mark, Amata, and Abby, trying to get a read on the situation. "Is everything okay?" "Yeah," Cass said, "Veronica filled us in on what happened. You doin' okay, rugrat?" Abby nodded and smiled. "Yeah. I'm better now." Veronica gave Abby another kiss on the cheek, and then sat down on the bed. As she sat down, Mark stood up and walked over to Arcade. "Hey, Arcade, can I, uh, can I talk to you for a minute?" "Uh, yeah, sure." Mark led him over to a corner of the room. "What's up?" Arcade asked. Mark looked over at the bed, where Cass had joined the others, lavishing attention on Abby. He then looked back at Arcade.

"Arcade," Mark said quietly, "does the name, "Hannah Knight" ring any bells?" Arcade rubbed his chin as he thought. He shook his head. "No, it doesn't. Should it?" "Okay, umm, do you remember a woman who looked like an older version of Abby ever working at the Old Mormon Fort?" Arcade thought again, and once again shook his head. "No, sorry. Why are you asking?" "Abby said that her mother worked at the Fort about eight years ago." "Ah, that'd be why the name didn't seem familiar. I've only been at the Fort for close to three years." Mark nodded, seeming a bit disappointed. "But," Arcade continued, "I'm pretty sure Julie's more or less been there since they first set up shop. If you're looking for information like that, she'd be the one to ask."

"Thanks, Arcade. I assume that since you're here, that Boone and Christine are waiting in the kitchen, correct?" He nodded. "As you requested." "Okay. If you wanna head back in there, we'll be there in a minute." He nodded, and left without a word. Mark walked back over to the bed, noting that ED-E had joined them. "Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but I need all of the adults in the kitchen." Cass gave Abby a pat on the head and got up. "Ya got it, Captain." She left the room. Veronica, who was still holding Abby, seemed reluctant to let her go. "Veronica," Amata said, "you can hug her more later. I really want to hear why my husband was missing for a week."

Veronica sighed, gave Abby another kiss, and then sat her down on the bed. "Okay. Abby, how about later we show your dad how good you are at punching?" "Okay, Auntie Ronnie." Veronica stood up and left as well, taking one last look at Abby before she exited the room. Mark kneeled in front of Abby. "Abby, sweetheart, I'd like to tell the others about what happened to your parents, but only with your permission. If you want, we can just keep it between the three of us." Abby looked down as she thought. "No, it's okay. You can tell them. They're family, right? There shouldn't be any secrets between family."

Mark smiled and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "No secrets. Right." Mark stood up, and Amata got off the bed. Amata gave Abby a kiss on the cheek, and then looked at ED-E. "ED-E, keep an eye on her. We'll be a little while." ED-E beeped in affirmation, and then Mark and Amata left the room. Mark closed the door. "You do realize the irony in that conversation the two of you just had about secrets, right?" Amata asked quietly as they stood in the hallway. "Oh, of course I realize the irony. I'd be an idiot not to." "I just-" she said as she pursed her lips- "I just don't like lying to her. Or the others for that matter. It's starting to feel like we're becoming our fathers, lying to us about the vault never opening. This whole secret feels like it's turning into too much of a burden."

Mark put his hands on her shoulders. "Babe, I am not my father, and you are not your father. When you get right down to it, the only things we really share with them is half of our DNA. Luckily for me, you got your mother's looks." Amata blushed, and Mark paused for a moment. "Look, we'll tell the others eventually. What separates us from our dads is that they were never going to tell us. I'm pretty sure Veronica's piecing things together anyway. I'm just not ready yet."

Amata nodded. "Ok. It's mainly your story, anyway. I was thinking though, that Abby could use a friend her own age, you know, maybe…" She trailed off and pointed skywards. Mark knew to whom she was referring. "We'll see, babe, we'll see. Come on, the others are probably wondering where we are." He put an arm around her shoulders and led her down the hall. "By the way," he whispered, "It's not my story. It's our story. The events are somewhat related, and you dealt with a lot, too."

They came into the kitchen, and saw that everyone was sitting in the same places that they were last night. Mark thought about breaking them up, but decided against it. As long as no one tried to shoot anyone else, they could sit wherever they wanted. Incidentally, he and Amata both sat in the same place as the previous evening. "Ok," Mark said, "before we tell you why Veronica and myself were missing for a week, as well as where we met Christine…" He paused, and took one of Amata's hands in his own for support. "…Abby has given Amata and I permission to tell you what we talked about in her room." Amata noticed that Veronica was now staring intently at them at this news.

"Before we do tell you, however, we need all of you to promise that you will not bring it up with her unless she brings it up first. We talked things through with her, and she's beginning to try and move past it." Amata nodded in agreement. After getting acknowledgement from everyone in the room, he told everyone in the room what Abby had told them about how her birth parents had died. After he finished, there was silence in the room as everyone absorbed what they had been told. "Damn," Cass said after a few moments. She then got up, went over to the fridge, took out a bottle of whiskey, and downed half of it in one gulp.

"If I ever run into tha fuckers that did that, they're gonna have a very unpleasant meetin' with tha business end a ma shotgun." Amata didn't bother to chastise Cass for her language. "Wow," Arcade said, "that was, well, pardon my language, but that was some messed up shit. Cass, can you get me a glass and pour me some of that, please?" Mark looked over at Veronica, who was showing no emotion whatsoever. That was when she got up and headed for the doorway. Mark, sensing where she was headed, got up and grabbed her arm as she walked by. "Mark, let go of me! I need to see her!" She tried to wrench her arm out of Mark's grip. She was strong, but Mark was stronger.

"Veronica, you just saw her. She is fine. Now, I know that you're concerned for her, and I'm glad that you're taking your duties as her aunt seriously, but I'd like to tell the story of why we were missing now, because I have other things to do today." He let go of her arm. She had a look of great concern on her face. "I know she is, but…" she trailed off, and put a hand over her mouth. She then started crying, and hugged Mark around his torso.

"It's-it's not fair, Mark. No one should have to see something like that. She's so young, and…" She trailed off again. Mark returned the hug. "I know it's not fair, Veronica. No one ever said life is. But Abby is stronger than you think, and she's wise and mature beyond her years. All we can do is give her as much love and support as we can muster." Mark patted her a couple times on the back, the universal sign to let go. She did not, so he tried again, but to no avail. "Uh, Veronica," Mark whispered, "you might wanna let go before everyone thinks there's something going on between us."

She finally broke away, looking embarrassed. "Sorry," she said as she wiped the tears from her eyes, and went back to her seat, grabbing one of Christine's hands for support. "Ok," Mark said, retaking his seat, "so to reiterate what we know from last night: Veronica was Brotherhood, but disavowed them. Christine still is Brotherhood, and I'm kinda, sorta in the Brotherhood from back east. Did I miss anything, Amata?" She shook her head. "No, that's pretty much where we ended up." He leaned over and kissed her. "Thanks, babe."

"Ok, so the morning after we first got to Vegas, Veronica asked me to speak with the Elder of her chapter of the Brotherhood, because she wanted it to be more like the one that I worked with, because they help people instead of just hoarding technology. Well, there is a splinter faction back east that still does that, but that's a story for another day. Anyway, the day that we visited McCarran, while the rest of you went fiend hunting, we went to their base, which I will not divulge the location of. Long story short, the meeting didn't turn out well."

"After we left, my pip-boy picked up a radio signal that advertised the opening of a pre-war casino. That led to an abandoned Brotherhood bunker, also whose location will not be divulged." He then went on to explain about how they got knocked out, waking up at the Sierra Madre, the bomb collars, and meeting Elijah. He then went on to explain about finding Christine and the others, the ghost people, the Cloud, the technology, his near-death experience, and then getting into the casino. He then talked about his confrontations with Dog/God and Dean, finding Veronica and Christine, their second meeting with Elijah, his death, and what happened afterwards between the two women that caused Veronica to resign from the Brotherhood. Veronica spoke when Mark had missed something, and that she felt stupid for falling for Elijah's tricks, and how she felt when Christine said she wanted to stay. Christine stayed silent, whether it was from pain or shame, wasn't really clear. By the time they finished, Amata had Mark's right hand in a death grip.

"So, yeah," Veronica said, "between Mark's meeting with our, I mean, their current Elder, seeing what Elijah had become, and Christine's initial refusal to leave the Sierra Madre, I made the decision to leave the Brotherhood. Honestly, the decision was one that was probably long overdue. If they refuse to change, then staying just to help an organization that is inevitably going to crumble into dust didn't really appeal to me. It's not like they wanted me there anyway. They basically sent me out to get me out of their hair for a while. As someone pointed out to me, my skills could be put to better use in service of people who want to make the Mojave a better place to live."

"Well, while some of that tech could've proved useful," Arcade said, "leaving it with Elijah would've been a mistake. Veronica, I know that killing him must've been difficult for you, but I think you made the right decision. Sure, maybe he could've killed Caesar, but he would've just been another Caesar, another tyrant." "Yeah, Arcade, I pretty much came to the same conclusion. I wanted to think that he was the same man that Christine and I had known, but…" she sighed, "…in my heart of hearts, I think that I knew that he wasn't. I guess I just didn't want to admit it. In a way, I guess it was a mercy killing."

Amata finally released Mark's hand, stood up, and walked over to where Veronica was sitting. Veronica looked up at her. "Veronica, could you stand up, please?" Veronica did, and then found herself enveloped in one of Amata's hugs. "Veronica, thank you for saving Mark and bringing him back to me. Believe me, I know what it feels like to lose faith in someone close to you who you thought had your best interests at heart." "How do you deal with it, Amata? The sting of betrayal?" Amata looked over at Mark and smiled. "Well, there is someone I have known my entire life, someone I love with all of my heart, who helped me work through it. The pain is still there, but it lessens with time. It has for me, and it will for you. Betrayal isn't something that you get over easily."

"It also helps when you have loved ones around to support you. Before you guys came back last night, I told Cass that you and her are the sisters that I never had. You are my family, and family supports each other, through good times and the bad." Veronica chuckled. "You know, I told Mark something similar to that at the Madre, that you guys felt more like family than the Brotherhood did." Amata released the hug and held Veronica at arm's length. "Well," Amata said, "they say that great minds do think alike." Veronica smiled. Amata then looked at Christine.

"Christine, I also need to thank you for saving Mark. Also, since you are important to Veronica, you are important to me. You are family as well, and I look forward to getting to know you better." Christine smiled, and then grimaced a bit. "Thanks, Amata. I look forward to getting to know you better as well. Oh, and I'm sorry about last night. It won't happen again." "Apology accepted, Christine." Amata re-took her seat, as did Veronica, each giving their respective partners a kiss.

"Well," Cass said after a few moments of silence, "this is one weird-ass family we got here." Everyone laughed, except for Boone, who barely cracked a smile. "I'm serious, guys. We got a couple a vault dwellers, a couple Brotherhood folks, an ex-NCR sniper, a Followers doc, an unemployed caravaner, a little orphaned girl, and a flyin' robot that shoots lasers. I never saw ma life goin' in this direction, but I wouldn't trade it fer tha world. Ya'll are good people, and I'm glad ta know all a ya. In fact, I think we all owe some big thanks ta Mark an' 'Mata fer bringin' us all together. As bad as this sounds, Mark, you gettin' shot in tha head may have been a blessin' in disguise."

"Guys," Mark said, "we didn't-" "No, no," Arcade interrupted, "now that I think about it, she's right. You getting shot led you to meeting ED-E in Primm, Cass at the Mojave Outpost, Boone in Novac, Veronica at the 188, myself at the Old Mormon Fort-" Veronica jumped in. "-Which led to Mark and I finding Christine, and Amata finding and adopting Abby. Mark, Amata, face it. You both are the reason that we're all here today, and I think that I can honestly say that we're all better for it." "Hear, hear," Cass proclaimed, raising the bottle of whiskey. Arcade jumped back in. "She's right on that front, too. You saved ED-E from rusting away, you helped Cass find out the truth about her caravan, Boone, um…" He trailed off, and looked at Boone. "I owe Mark," was all Boone said.

"Right. Well, Boone apparently owes Mark, you helped set Veronica on a new path and reunited her with her long-lost love, and you gave a lost little girl a home and a family again. Not to mention the gains I've made with my research. You can't tell me that if you didn't get shot, that you wouldn't still be in Goodsprings." Mark and Amata looked at each other. "They do make a good point, Amata," Mark said. Amata nodded. "Well," she said, "I think I speak for Mark when I say that both of our lives are better for having met all of you, too." "She's right. You're all family, and family is what you make of it. Right, Veronica?" Mark said. She nodded, remembering his words from the Sierra Madre. The room went silent again. "Alright, Veronica, you can go see Abby now. Just remember what we said earlier," Mark said. "Oh, thank you," she said as she got up and dashed out of the room.

A short while later, while Christine and Boone went to rest, Veronica had Abby show Mark how well she could punch. Amata and Arcade also watched. Once Mark declared that Abby could start hitting solid objects, Veronica proudly proclaimed, "Ah, punching. The gift that keeps on giving." After that exhibition, while Arcade went down to the lab, the rest of them split into two groups. Mark and Abby, with ED-E in tow, went through the crate of weapons that they had claimed from the Silver Rush. Mark was planning on doing that anyway, but Amata insisted that Abby join him for some "daddy-daughter" time. Mark was more than happy to have her, and Abby thoroughly enjoyed the time that she spent with Mark.

Cass, Veronica, and Amata had some girl time, chatting while Veronica modified her newly-acquired pip-boy to match what Mark's and Amata's could do. This way, they could all speak to each other and track where everyone else was. Mark had to leave his pip-boy with them so Veronica could get the correct frequency, so Amata kept a close eye on her to make sure that she didn't attempt to access any files on either of their pip-boys, since Amata held mostly duplicate files on hers.

Around 1:30, Mark decided that it was time for him to make his way over to Gomorrah. He found himself and Amata in their room, Amata sitting on the bed reading while he got ready. "Mark, why are you taking all of those weapons? You know that they're just going to take them from you on the way in." He had his assault rifle on his back, his 10mm pistol on his right hip, Maria on his left hip, various grenades on his belt, and his trench knife strapped to his right leg. He would also be carrying a plasma rifle. "Trust me babe, I am well aware of that fact. These weapons are only serving as a distraction."

Amata looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "A distraction? For what, exactly?" He went into his bag and pulled out a switchblade, and then put it in between his pip-boy and his wrist. "I have no intention of going in there unarmed, like I did when I went in the Tops. My goal is to make the guards think that there is no possible way that I would be able to carry any more weapons." "And if they ask you to take off your pip-boy?" Amata queried. "They didn't at the Tops, and since they're both operating under House's direction, I doubt they will. Even if they do, I'll just say that it can't be taken off until I die."

She put the book down and stood up. "So, you're assuming that security acts all the same and that they've never seen a pip-boy before. You do remember that there is a vault right down the street." "I do, but since said vault is now a hotel, I doubt that there are many of the actual vault inhabitants left. I'm guessing that that Sarah Weintraub woman was one of them, since she has a pip-boy, but other than that, I doubt it." Amata faced him, still looking unconvinced.

"Amata, look, if worse comes to worse, I'll just tell them that I'm the Courier, and that should scare them enough to leave me alone." She stood close to him, brushing something off his right shoulder. "You know," she said, "sometimes I long for the days when the most we had to worry about was how we did on one of Mr. Brotch's tests, and not about getting shot, radiation, or slaver armies." She then smiled. "But then I think about where we are, who we're surrounded by, and the child growing inside of me…" she put a hand on her stomach, "…I realize that everything that we've been through, all the pain, all the heartache, all the deceit, it has all been worth it."

"It's too bad that the other girls in the vault weren't nicer to you. If they could see you now, all manly, heroic, and looking as sexy as hell in that armor, I'm sure that they would all try to drag you into bed, and then I would get to beat them all with a baseball bat for trying to." She grinned evilly at that part. "Well," Mark said, "you did have a hell of a swing when we played baseball in the vault." Mark then smiled and then gave her a passionate kiss. She became flustered when he pulled back. "Yup," she said, "definitely worth it."

"Yeah," Mark said, "sometimes I miss those simpler days, or my "pre-Wanderer" days, as I like to think of them, as well. I remember that you would be so worked up over what you got on those tests, thinking that you failed, when you actually aced them." "Well, we studied together, so, theoretically, you should have aced them as well, instead of just barely passing them. You are smarter than that." Mark shrugged. "I've always said that you were smarter than me. Besides, we always knew that we were gonna take the G.O.A.T when we were sixteen, and while I'm grateful for the education, learning about World War II doesn't really help you unless you were gonna be a teacher."

"Well, true, but I still think that you could've tried harder." There was silence for a few moments. "Babe, how would you like to go on our date tonight, since our original plans got postponed?" She kissed him. "Is that a yes?" Mark asked. Amata rolled her eyes. "What do you think, idiot?" "I think that I'm the luckiest man on the damn planet." They were interrupted when someone knocked on their door. "Come in," Mark called out. The door opened, and Abby skipped into the room, followed by Cass. Abby looked at Mark. "Wow, daddy, you look awesome! You really are a superhero!" All of the adults smiled, and then Mark struck a heroic-looking pose. "Yes, I do look impressive, don't I?"

"Yes," Amata said, "you look very impressive. Now, I believe you have a casino to infiltrate." He nodded. "Yes, yes I do. How about a kiss for good luck?" Amata kissed him. "Ooh, daddy, can I give you a kiss too?" "Of course, sweetheart." Mark leaned down, and Abby gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Well, I got good-luck kisses from both of my girls. There's no way that I can fail now." "Can other people get in on this kissin' ya business?" Cass said, grinning. "Well," Mark said, "you could try, but your fate may be similar to that of one Christine Kendall." "Who?" Cass asked. "She was the last girl who wasn't myself or Abby to kiss him," Amata replied.

"What happened?" Cass asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. "Well," Mark said, noting the pleased look on Amata's face, "when we were fifteen, apparently someone had dared Christine to kiss me on the lips and hold it for a couple seconds, which we didn't learn until later. Well, Amata was nearby when it happened, and when she saw that, she became enraged, grabbed Christine by the hair, threw her down the hallway, and said-" he covered Abby's ears with his hands, "-and said, and I quote, "go back to blowing the Tunnel Snakes, you skanky bitch." She had apparently also taken out a chunk of her hair." He removed his hands from Abby's ears. "And that was long before we were even a couple."

Cass looked at Amata incredulously. "Seriously, 'Mata? Even though ya'll weren't a couple yet?" "Yup. Christine had a certain… _reputation_ amongst the boys, if you catch my drift. Besides, I wanted to give him his first kiss, and she stole that from me." Abby looked at Amata. "Did you ever kiss any other boys besides daddy, mommy?" Amata shook her head. "Other than my dad, no. Your father is the only man I've ever kissed in a romantic sense, and if I have my way, he will be the only man that I kiss in that way." Mark kissed her. "I hope so too, babe. Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I have to go and be all heroic." "Uh, actually, Captain," Cass said, reaching into her jacket, "I got somethin' that can help ya with that." She pulled out a small, black, leather-bound book and handed it to Mark.

Mark examined it. "What is it, Cass?" he asked. "Well, when ya were gone, I went ta Gomorrah, an' I remembered that House asked ya ta investigate 'em, so I did a little snoopin' a ma own. Open it." Mark read the first three pages, and found records of chem and gun deals done behind the back of the casino's management structure. Mark closed it and looked at Cass. "Who does this belong to?" "Dude's name's Cachino. He one a tha underbosses or whatever. I got it outta his room. Figured ya could use it ta blackmail him. From what he told me, his bosses are keepin' somethin' big from him."

"How did you get this out of his room? And how did you get him tell you that?" Mark asked. "Wait, on second thought, don't answer." Cass smirked at him. "Good, 'cause I don't think ya wanna know." "Well, this makes your job easier, at least a little bit," Amata said, looking at Mark. "Yes, it certainly does. Thank you very much, Miss Cassidy." Mark put the journal down inside the front of his armor, grabbed the plasma rifle, and then headed towards the door. As he opened the door, Mark heard Abby say, "oh, mommy, I almost forgot. Daddy told me to ask you how babies are made." Mark, upon hearing that, closed the door and walked quickly to the elevator. "MARK!" he heard Amata shout.

Mark walked out of the Lucky 38 and made his way across the street to Gomorrah. He opened the door, and walked in. A powerful smell hit his nostrils, one that smelled like a combination of sex and alcohol. Directly in front of him was the entrance to go onto the main floor of the casino. In front of that stood a man in a tan pinstriped suit, with a brown fedora and sunglasses. To his left was the reception desk, with a woman with brown hair and wearing a blue blouse sitting behind it. That was probably the receptionist that he needed to talk to. The man approached him.

"Hey, only Omertas are allowed to carry weapons in here. I'm gonna need you to check your weapons at the reception desk." Mark nodded and walked over to the reception desk. The woman smiled and stood up. "Hello, welcome to Gomorrah. I need you to leave your weapons here, and you will get them back on your way out." "Sure thing," Mark said. The woman walked into a storeroom behind the desk and brought out a metal box. Mark placed everything in the box, and the woman brought it back into the closet. She came back out and handed Mark a small, circular piece of plastic with the number '10' on it. "That's your claim ticket. Give that to me when you leave, and you'll get your weapons back. Now, is there anything that I can help you with?"

Mark looked over his shoulder, and saw the guard speaking with another man in a brown suit. Mark leaned forward on the desk and spoke in a quiet voice. "Yeah, there is, actually. I'm here to collect an outstanding balance for some information." She closed her eyes and sighed. "I knew someone would call that in soon. What do you want to know?" "I need to speak with Cachino. Where is he?" The woman leaned in and spoke quietly. "Cachino should be in Brimstone. Just head towards the back of the casino and follow the signs." Mark smiled. "Thank you, ma'am." "Have a nice day, sir," she said, her voice returning to normal.

Mark headed towards the doorway. The guard eyed him suspiciously, but let him pass. Mark took a couple of steps in and stopped to examine the main floor. There was a four-sided stone archway in the center of the room, with a fire pit underneath it. Slot machines and card tables surrounded it. To the far left were the cashiers, and along the right wall was a bar. There were strippers dancing in cages that were suspended from the ceiling, and there was a balcony overlooking the main floor. He felt like he was cheating on Amata just by being in here. "I am a pilgrim in an unholy land," he muttered as he made his way towards the back of the casino.

He made his way towards the back of the casino, rebuffing advances from a couple of women, and one man, and walked into Brimstone. To his left as he entered, there was a stage with a pole on it, and there was a topless woman dancing on it. He quickly averted his eyes when he realized that particular fact. There were some round tables in front of the stage, and on the opposite side of the room from where he was were a set of double doors, and to his right was a bar. There was only one man sitting at the tables, and he was wearing a tan suit, so Mark assumed that this was Cachino.

Mark approached the table that he was sitting at. Cachino had balding brown hair, and a round, pudgy face. 'Cass,' Mark thought, 'If you did what I think you did to get the journal, you seriously need to cut back on the whiskey, because your standards apparently go way down when you're drunk. At least, I hope that you were drunk.' Mark shook his head and sat down in the chair next to him. The man diverted his attention from the stage and onto Mark. "Who the fuck are you?" he asked, a scowl on his face. "Are you Cachino?" Mark asked, looking anywhere but the stage. "Who the fuck wants to know?" "I'll take that as a yes. The name's Mark. I hear that you've been doing some business on the side, things that your bosses might not like."

"Business? What the fuck do you mean, business? You better start talking clear, and I mean crystal fucking clear, because I'm about to lose my fucking patience." Mark took out the journal and smirked at him. "Lose something?" Cachino's eyes went wide, and started looking around the room quickly. "How- how the fuck did you get that?" he asked nervously. Mark shrugged his shoulders. "I have my ways." "Listen," Cachino said quietly, wiping sweat off his forehead, "that's some dangerous shit you've got there. That book could get me killed, if the wrong people see it. Let's talk. What do you want? What can I do for you?" Mark didn't speak for a few moments, letting Cachino sweat, watching him eyeing the journal.

"I need your help, Cachino. I have it on good authority that there's something big going on in this place, and my employer has tasked me to find out what it is and put a stop to it, and you're gonna help me. I mean, I'll stop it regardless of whether you help me or not, but in the scenario where you don't help me, there's a good chance that a lot of people will end up dead, yourself included. So, what do you say?" "Who do you work for?" "That's not important. Are you gonna help me or not?" Cachino leaned back in his chair. "Fuckin' hell. Alright, I'll help, but you gotta give me that journal back." He reached for it, but Mark pulled it back and put it back in his armor. "Nope. You'll get that back when I'm done. I'm not giving it back to you now and have you go back on our deal. I wasn't born yesterday, Cachino."

Cachino sighed. "Fine. You've got me by the balls anyway. Here's what I know. The bosses, Big Sal and Nero, they've been working on something big for a while, and they've been keeping it real quiet. They've been collecting enough guns to outfit a small army, using this guy Troike. They've also brought in this guy Clanden, called him a specialist. What kind of specialist, only he and the bosses know." "Tell me about these guys, Troike and Clanden," Mark said.

"Troike's a skittish little fucker. Spends half the day pumping his body full of chems, and the other half pumping hookers full of his willy. He's got some connections, so he's able to smuggle huge shipments of weapons onto the Strip. The bosses got him by the shorthairs, though. We covered up a hooker he killed while flying on psycho, so he gets us guns in exchange for us not ratting him out." Mark nodded. "And Clanden?" "Clanden…he's a little arrogant, but he's too nice. I've never seen him fucking or gambling. Everyone's got their vice, but he seems like the fucking Pope."

"Ok. So, where are they now?" "The bosses gave Clanden a room on the Suites level. Get off the elevator, turn right, and his room is at the end of the hall. Troike spends all day on the lower levels, in the Lower Brimstone." He paused and pulled something out of his jacket. Mark got ready to dodge in case he pulled out a weapon. What he took out was a small plastic card with the Gomorrah logo on it, and it said, 'Gomorrah VIP.' He handed it to Mark. "That'll keep the muscle from hassling you." Mark nodded, stood up, and slipped it in his pocket. "I'll be back once they're dealt with." Cachino looked back at the stage. "I hope this works, kid. For your sakes, and mine."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Next chapter, well, there will be a surprise that I've been waiting to get to for a long while. I think that you'll like it. Until next time, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**


	52. Chapter 52: We Are Family, Part 2

**Author's Note: I hope that everyone is doing well. As promised at the end of the previous chapter, will be a bit of a surprise in this chapter. It's my own twist on an in-game easter egg. It's at the end of this chapter. Enjoy, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**

(Same time, Lucky 38)

Amata had to remind herself that she loved Mark. Otherwise, she would have to strangle him for leaving her to explain to a seven-year-old what sex was. She had asked Abby why Mark had told her to ask her about it. Abby had explained that she had asked Mark earlier, but he had said to ask her instead. Amata calmed a little bit when she realized that Abby was just curious because of her pregnancy, and not Mark just telling her to ask Amata about sex with no provocation from Abby. She was still angry with him, but not as much as she first was.

That being said, trying to explain what sex was to a seven-year-old was not a fun experience for Amata. She kept starting and stopping, trying to decide on the fly what was appropriate for a child's ears. It also didn't help that Cass kept making crude jokes. Amata had to keep shushing her, and eventually had to throw a pillow at Cass before she got her to keep quiet. What Amata eventually told Abby was that a baby was made when a mommy and daddy gave each other a "special hug."

Abby wanted more information, but Amata decided that that was all she needed to know until she was older. Abby turned to Cass to explain more, but Amata glared at Cass, and that was sufficient enough for Cass to refuse to divulge any more information. Abby pouted, but she was appeased somewhat, so she stopped asking. Amata noticed that Abby seemed a bit tired, so she put the young girl down for a nap.

While Abby napped, Amata and Cass were going down to the clothing stores. ED-E would alert Amata if Abby needed anything. Amata wanted to pick out some nice clothes for Mark to wear on their date, and she wanted to take another look through the dresses that they had. She had the black dress she was originally going to wear when they were supposed to go a week ago in her room, but she wanted to see if there was something that she had maybe missed. She had picked out an outfit for Mark as well, but she thought another look-through couldn't hurt. She and Cass were waiting for the elevator when they heard a door open and close behind them. They both turned around and saw that Veronica had come out of the room that she now shared with Christine.

"Hey guys, where you headed?" "Well," Amata said, "Mark and I decided to go on a date tonight, so Cass and I are going to look at some clothes. Want to join us? There are a lot of nice dresses downstairs." "Wait, there are more dresses in here? Why was I not informed of this?" The elevator door opened. Amata shrugged. "Never came up, I guess. You wanna come or not?" Veronica brushed past them and went into the elevator. "I think you already know that I do, and not just because of the dresses. I also want to spend as much quality time as possible with my sisters." Both Cass and Amata smiled at that statement, and joined Veronica in the elevator.

As the elevator began its descent, Amata asked Veronica how Christine was doing. "Oh, she's fine. It's not the first time she's gotten hurt. She's a tough woman. She's actually giving a tune-up to her LAER right now, and she gets really into stuff like that, so she won't even really notice that I'm gone." Once they arrived on the correct floor, Veronica ran over to the women's store, and when she saw all of the clothes, including the dresses, she let out a joyful squeal and then exclaimed, "Yes! Everything's coming up Veronica!" She then ran in. Amata chuckled and shook her head. 'Like a kid in a candy store,' she thought, remembering that old-world expression from somewhere. Cass patted Amata on the back. "Go an' pick out somethin' fer yer boy toy. I'll go make sure she doesn't go off tha deep end." "Thanks, Cass."

After going through everything in the men's store, Amata had picked out an outfit that she believed Mark would look quite handsome in. It was a blood-red button-down shirt made of a mix of polyester and cotton, a pair of black dress pants, a black belt, and a pair of black dress shoes and black dress socks. She was sure that she had remembered his shoe size correctly from when they lived in the vault, but there were more shoes in the store in case she got the wrong size. "People before the war certainly had style," she said to herself as she gathered up everything and headed over to the women's store.

She put everything on the counter and searched out Veronica and Cass, finding them near the dressing rooms, Veronica wearing a green dress. She was badgering Cass to try on a blue dress, but Cass was having none of it. "Never wearin' a dress again, Veronica. Did it that one night so Mark and 'Mata could kill that asshole. Don't like how they feel." "Oh, come on, Cass, you looked so good in that dress. It turned me on a little bit, in all honesty. Besides, blue is **definitely** your color."

Veronica saw Amata come over. "Amata, be honest. Wouldn't Cass look cute in this dress?" Amata looked between Cass and the dress. "Yeah, I suppose she would." "Ha! I told you, Cass." "But," Amata continued, "she doesn't have to wear it if she doesn't want to." Cass smirked, as Veronica frowned. "Thank ya, 'Mata." "Party pooper," Veronica said. She then perked back up. "Well, Amata, I picked out some dresses for you." She grabbed some dresses off a nearby rack and handed them to Amata. She then shooed Amata into a nearby dressing room.

Amata spent nearly forty minutes trying on seemingly every dress that they had in her size. Both Cass and Veronica offered their opinions, although Cass started to complain after Amata couldn't decide on one. "C'mon, 'Mata, ya look good in all of 'em. Ya know Mark's gonna love whatever ya wear. Jus' pick one." Amata came back out of the dressing room in the clothes that she had come down in. "I know Cass, I just… I want to wear something that will make his jaw drop, like I did when we first got to Vegas. I don't feel like that any of these will do that," she said, indicating the pile of dresses that were now on the floor. Cass groaned.

Veronica had a thoughtful look on her face. "Hmm…I think I know what you want, Amata. You want something that says, "I'm sexy as hell", but also says, "don't fuck with me." Am I in the ballpark?" Amata pointed towards Veronica. "Yes, Veronica, that is exactly what I'm looking for. These ones are good, but they don't say that." Veronica grinned. "Well, you're in luck, because I have something upstairs in just your size that says exactly that." After they cleaned up the mess that they had made and gathered the clothes that Amata had picked out for Mark, they made their way to the elevator and back to the Presidential Suite.

(35 minutes earlier, Gomorrah)

Mark decided to start with Clanden, so he made his way to the elevators and pressed the button for the Suites Level. As the elevator ascended, he thought about his date with Amata later in the evening. He had it all planned. They would get all dressed up, head over to Vault 21, rent a room for the evening, have some dinner, do some dancing, then maybe take a tour of the vault. Then, in all likelihood, they would end the evening make sweet, tender love to one another.

He wasn't lying when he had told Amata that he had fantasized about making love to her in a vault. He had just always assumed that it would be Vault 101, and that they would have to wait until Alphonse was old and senile, or until Amata would have taken over as Overseer and called off her guard before he would leave the two of them to their own devices. He assumed that Alphonse blamed him for "enticing" Amata to abandon the vault or some nonsense like that. 'Even after all you did to keep us apart, Alphonse, we still fell in love. I win, old man. I win.'

He also briefly wondered what experiment Vault-Tec had attached to Vault 21. It was still functioning, so it couldn't have been that bad. It was on the Strip, so maybe it was something to do with gambling. This was only the third still-functioning vault that he was aware of, Vaults 101 and 112 being the others, although he wouldn't call Vault 112 "fully-functioning," seeing as their residents were trapped in a virtual hell for two hundred years before Mark freed them by killing them. He had felt guilty about ending their lives, but he realized that being trapped in a simulation forever by Dr. Braun was no way to live. Mark still had nightmares occasionally about that horrid "Tranquility Lane" simulation.

He shook himself out of his stupor as the elevator approached the Suites Level. He pulled the VIP card out of his pocket, since he assumed that there would be guards on this floor. The elevator doors opened, and Mark stepped out. The floor was carpeted, keeping with the same color scheme as the casino. He noted two guards patrolling the floor, carrying submachine guns. When they noticed Mark, they both raised their guns. "Who are you?" the guard closest to him asked. Mark raised the VIP card so the guard could see it. "Friend of the Family," Mark said.

The guard closest to him took the card and examined it. He nodded and then handed it back to Mark. He motioned for the other guard to lower his weapon. "What's your business up here?" "I'm here to speak with Clanden," Mark replied. The guard pointed to Mark's right. "End of the hall." Mark nodded. "Thank you, gentlemen."

He walked down the door at the end of the hall and knocked. A few moments later, the door opened. Clanden appeared to be a man who was close to Mark's height, with messy brown hair, a goatee, and blue eyes. He was wearing a blue long-sleeved shirt with an olive-green sweater vest over it, and dark brown khaki pants. "Yes?" He answered. "Clanden, I presume?" Mark asked. He nodded. "Yes. How can I help you?" Mark held up the VIP card. "Name's Mark. Big Sal and Nero hired me. They sent me up here, said you could use help with your part of the plan."

Clanden looked at him suspiciously. "How come I wasn't informed of this?" "I don't fucking know. They pay me and tell me where to go. I don't ask too many questions. Plausible deniability and all that. Now, are you gonna invite me in, or are we just gonna stand here twiddling our thumbs?" Clanden was silent for a few moments, studying Mark. "Alright, come on in." Mark looked over his shoulder at the guards, who were doing a bad job of pretending that they weren't listening.

Mark examined the room. It was a multi-level room, and with it being a suite, it was very nicely furnished. There was a bar over to the right side of the room, so Mark went behind it and grabbed a beer. "So," Clanden said, standing in the middle of the room, "what exactly do you do for a living?" "Oh, this and that. Blow places up, make people disappear, steal high-value items, et cetera, et cetera. All for the right price, of course." Mark believed Clanden to be some type of mercenary, so he pretended to be a brother-in-arms of sorts. Plus, it wasn't exactly a lie. He had done all of those things, just not for money.

"How come I've never heard of you, then? You must have gotten the boss' attention somehow." "I don't exactly advertise my services. It's more word of mouth. Someone tells their friend, who tells another friend, and on and on it goes. Word must've reached the bosses, they sent someone to find me, and here I am." Clanden nodded. "So, what did the bosses tell you of the plan?" Mark leaned back against the bar and took a sip of his beer. "Not much. They said that it has been brewing for a while, and it's something that the people around here won't soon forget."

Clanden chuckled. "You got that right, brother." They stood in silence for a couple of moments. "So, are you going to tell me the plan at some point?" "Yeah, yeah, cool your fucking jets." He sat down on a couch. "What do you know about chlorine gas?" Mark raised an eyebrow, but internally alarm bells were going off. There was only one use for chlorine gas: killing. The Germans used it during World War I, extremely effectively, until the opposition had figured out how to counter it, or dampen its effects at most. "That's some brutal shit," Mark responded. "Destroys the respiratory system, leaves the victim unable to breathe. A slow and painful way to die."

"Damn straight. You sure know your stuff." Mark shrugged. "Never used the stuff myself, but it came up in some research I did in the Boneyard. So, what does chlorine gas have to do with this whole plan?" Clanden grinned. "The bosses have this plan. They got blueprints for every building on the Strip. We place the chlorine bombs in the vents, blow 'em all at once. When the people run out to get air, the Omertas gun 'em down. The bosses plan to hand the Strip over to the Legion, and the Omertas, especially the bosses, have been promised a place of honor among Caesar's ranks."

Mark groaned internally at how stupid Big Sal and Nero were. Based on the information he had gathered on the Legion since he and Amata had been out here, he learned that the Legion was made up wholly of conquered tribes. Caesar had most likely promised the same thing to the other tribes, who would then be stupid enough to accept. Then their tribal identity would be wiped from existence, and they would then be brainwashed to accept the Legion's teachings. Mark had zero reason to expect that the Omertas would be any different.

Mark chuckled and took a sip of beer. "That's a pretty ambitious plan. You can build a chlorine bomb?" "Damn straight. I could build a nuke if I wanted to." "So, when does this all get set up?" "Well," Clanden said, "parts should be here in a day or so, so most likely by the end of the week. They'll be detonated the next time the Legion swarms Hoover Dam." "What about the Lucky 38? Won't do much against robots," Mark stated. "The bosses got plans for the Securitrons. Besides, didn't you hear? Some fucker they call the Courier is living there now with a few other people. My intel says that there's three guys, four broads, and some little brat."

Mark felt a fiery rage build up in him at the way Clanden talked about Abby, but he suppressed it for the moment. Clanden continued. "The way I have it planned, I seduce one of the women, build up some trust, get 'em to let me in, and that's when I plant the bombs. I hear that there's this smokin' hot brunette bitch with a nice rack. Think I might go for her. Sounds like an easy lay."

The rage inside Mark increased exponentially, and it took all of his willpower to not run over there and start beating Clanden's face in. Instead, he forced a smile. "Women, only good for one thing, am I right, or am I right?" Clanden laughed. "You are right, brother." "So, you got the blueprints and schematics around here somewhere?" Clanden stood up. "Yeah, got 'em in a safe in my room. Give me a couple minutes." Clanden went up the stairs to the second level and disappeared through a doorway.

As soon as he did, Mark put down the beer, clenched his hands into fists, and took a couple of calming breaths. Talking to Clanden was making him physically sick, and he had to force down the bile that was building in his throat. He reopened his eyes just as Clanden came back out, carrying a few sheets of paper. He came back down and laid them out on a table. Sure enough, there were the blueprints of every building on the Strip, along with the schematics for a chlorine bomb. Mark looked them over. There were markings on where the bombs were to be placed.

"Impressive," Mark said. "I know, right? The fuckers won't even see it coming." Mark leaned over slightly, examining the one for the NCR Embassy. "Hmm. I think this would be more effective if you placed a bomb here," Mark said, pointing to a random vent junction. "What are you talking about?" Clanden asked, looking to where Mark was pointing. "Take a closer look," Mark said, moving out of the way so Clanden could check it out. Mark stood behind him as he leaned over. Clanden shook his head and straightened up. "No, I think-" Mark never found out what exactly Clanden thought, because he had grabbed Clanden and snapped his neck, killing him instantly. His lifeless body dropped to the floor unceremoniously. Mark sighed. "Clanden, you were a sexist pig, a horrible human being, and just an overall waste of functioning organs. Rot in hell you bastard."

Mark dragged Clanden's body to a closet, tossed it in there, and covered it with some sheets and clothing. Once that was done, Mark went into the kitchen and looked through the drawers, finding a matchbook. He put the plans into the sink, lit a match, and dropped that into the sink as well, igniting the papers, ensuring they would never be used again. He turned the tap, and let the water extinguish the flames. The water was irradiated, but it didn't matter.

He then went into Clanden's room, and found the safe that Clanden had mentioned. He didn't even bother to lock it. There was a holotape, a silenced 10 mm pistol, some caps, NCR bills, and some Legion coins. Mark put the pistol in the back of his armor, which was covered by the duster. He then loaded the holotape onto his pip-boy and listened to it. It sounded like Clanden was having violent sex with women, and then Mark heard the women screaming and begging for their lives. Mark immediately switched it off and threw up on the floor.

"Fuck," he said once he was done, "I did the world a favor by killing that bastard." Mark had seen and heard some disgusting shit in the wasteland and was able to stomach it, but hearing someone torturing a woman like that, it affected him. It was times like this when the part of him that was raised in the vault shone through. Clanden was lucky that he was dead. Mark shook his head and stood up. He checked the rest of the suite, but found nothing else of note, so he left the room and headed towards the elevators, ignoring the guards. It was time to deal with Troike.

Mark made his way to Lower Brimstone, that is, after getting lost a couple of times and having to ask one of the Omertas for directions. He opened the door and looked around. It was a large, wide-open room with four beds in the center, one in each of the four corners, and pillows and rugs scattered indiscriminately. All of the pillows seemed to be heart-shaped. There were only two people in the room, both on the same bed, both seemingly asleep. Mark walked over to them. The man, who he assumed was Troike, was a black gentleman with brown hair and a goatee. He was wearing a dirty white t-shirt and no pants, although he did have his underpants on, thankfully.

The woman, who was cuddled up next to him, appeared to be naked. Mark shook the man by the shoulder. He moved slightly, but did not awaken. He shook the man harder, but he still did not wake up. Mark shook his head, and then hit Troike on the right arm with his pip-boy. That did the trick. He shot up and let out a yell, clutching his arm. That sudden movement made the woman fall off the bed. 'What the fuck, man?" Mark's face remained impassive. "Troike, I presume?" "Yeah, I'm Troike. Who the hell are you, and why did you hit my arm?" The woman who had rolled off the bed stood up and placed her hands on her hips, leaving her body uncovered.

Mark blocked her from his vision using his hand. "You, whoever you are, beat it," he said, addressing the woman. The woman scoffed. "And who's gonna make me? You?" Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of caps. "50 caps. Now beat it." The woman smiled and gathered her clothes. "Whatever you say, hon." She then left the room, much to the displeasure of Troike. "Aww, come on man, I was having a good time. Why did you have to ruin it?" "We need to talk, Troike. But first, please put some damn pants on." "Man, I ain't fucking talking to you." Mark sighed and pulled out another bag of caps.

"How about now?" He nodded. While Troike looked for his pants, Mark looked for a private place to talk. He found a broom closet that would suffice. "Get in here, Troike. We need to talk in private." "Why in private?" Mark shoved him in the closet, shut the door and turned on the light. "Alright, Troike, let's get down to business. My name's Mark. I know that you've been smuggling weapons onto the Strip." "Who told- I mean, I have no idea what you're talking about." "Cut the shit, Troike. Cachino told me, so there's no point in lying." Troike looked fearful for a second. "Cachino did what? Man, he must be trying to get me killed."

"Yeah, well," Mark said, "if what the bosses are planning comes to fruition, you're gonna be dead either way." "Man, what are you talking about?" Mark explained what the bosses were planning to him. "No shit?" Troike said, raising an eyebrow. "No shit, Troike. So tell me, how are you getting these weapons onto the Strip in the first place?" Troike looked proud of himself. "It's a stroke of genius, if I can be so modest. This whole arrangement starts with an old buddy of mine in the Republic. He's responsible for packing and shipping supplies to the NCR on the Strip. He marks them as food or medical, and then packs them with guns and some other shit. From there it just takes a couple of greased palms to get someone to let me cherry pick a container or two out of every shipment. Easy as pie."

"Ok, so do you know where the Omertas are keeping said guns?" Troike nodded. "Yeah, they keep them in a utility closet in the basement. The thing is, though, the bosses have the goods on me. If I go behind their backs, they'll kill me." Mark chuckled. "Troike, if the Legion takes over, you're dead anyway. Either that or a slave. I hear that they don't look too kindly on chem users." Troike sighed. "Well then I'm screwed." Mark shook his head. "No, you're not, well not as badly. Once we figure out how to get rid of the guns, you're going to go down to the NCR Embassy and turn yourself in for smuggling."

"Why the fuck would I do that?" "Because you'll still be alive. I don't know what NCR prisons are like, but it's better than the alternatives. I'm also on good terms with an NCR Colonel at McCarran. I'll put in a good word for you, maybe get you a reduced sentence." Troike contemplated it for a few moments. "How do I know that you're not lying to me?" "You don't," Mark replied, "but you're just going to have to take my word for it." "Alright, you've got a deal. So, I _have_ been working on a bit of a pet project in case the Family betrays me. It's called thermite. Burns as hot as the devil's asshole and can melt just about anything. Got some in my bag over near the bed. I rigged the light switch outside the utility closet to emit a spark big enough to ignite the thermite and turn the guns into molten slag."

Mark nodded, opened the door, and shoved Troike out. "Wonderful. Now grab the bag and lead the way." Troike looked confused. "Wait, why can't you just do it?" "A, because you know the way, idiot, and I don't. B, you know more about the thermite than I do. So grab your damn bag, and let's get going."

They made their way down to the utility closet, only being stopped once. The guards knew Troike, but Mark had to show them his card. Then went down a short staircase, opened the door and went in. There were four large cases in the room. Mark opened one and looked inside. There were some pistols, pulse grenades, and other weapons meant to cause a lot of damage in a short amount of time. Even without the chlorine bombs, they could do a significant amount of damage.

Troike worked on spreading the thermite over the cases. Once he was done, he looked at Mark. "Alright, like I said, the light switch will set off a spark that will detonate the thermite. Can I go now?" Mark waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, go ahead. Remember, go to the NCR Embassy and turn yourself in. On your way out, just act like everything is normal. If someone stops you, just say that you're going to meet with your supplier, ok?" Troike nodded and left the room. Mark took one last look around. It was a shame to get rid of these weapons, but it needed to be done to prevent a massacre.

He stepped outside the room and closed the metal door. He saw a guard passing by at the top of the stairs. He then flipped the light switch, and started to walk away. He hoped to get away from the room before the thermite exploded. He got to the landing before there was a large booming noise from behind him, shaking loose some plaster from the ceiling. Mark saw the guard point his submachine gun at Mark from about fifteen feet away, but Mark was quicker on the draw, and put three in the man's chest, the submachine gun firing wildly as the guard felt to the ground. Mark waited for any other guards to respond, but none came, so he dragged the man's body and tossed it down the stairwell. Time to report back to Cachino.

Mark found Cachino exactly as he left him. Mark sat down. "So?" Cachino asked, not diverting his eyes away from the stage. "Clanden's dead. He was planning on making chlorine bombs, putting them in the vents of all the buildings on the Strip, and then detonate them the next time the Legion swarms Hoover Dam. While that happened, they would gun down everyone with the weapons that Troike got, and use pulse grenades to take out the Securitrons. Speaking of Troike, he's heading to the NCR Embassy to turn himself in. The guns he got were destroyed. You may have heard a large booming noise a few minutes ago. Oh, and your bosses were planning on handing the Strip over to the Legion in exchange for a place of honor in the Legion's ranks, which would never happen, because Caesar doesn't share power."

Cachino ran a hand over his balding head. "Fuck. The bosses have done some bad shit over the years, but this would've taken the cake. Believe me, I've heard of what the Legion is capable of. So, here's what needs to happen now. We need to cut off the heads of the serpent: Big Sal and Nero. As long as they're alive, they can always restart their plans. All that you've done so far is stall them. I can guarantee they'll have contingencies. Luckily, they have tasked me to figure out what's going on."

"What happens once they're dead?" Mark inquired. "Don't you worry. I'm next in line to run this place. I'll keep a real tight rein on things around here. I ain't stupid enough to get in bed with the Legion." Mark nodded. "Alright, so obviously they both need to be killed at the same time. Any ideas?" "It just so happens that they're together in Big Sal's office, waiting for my report. There won't be a better opportunity to get them in the same room together." Mark nodded and stood up. "Alright. Lead the way, Cachino." Cachino stood up, pulled out a 10mm pistol and handed it to Mark. "I suggest that you kill them while they're talking. They'll most likely kill you once they're done." Mark took the pistol and put it in the back of his pants with the other pistol.

As they made their way up to the second level, an idea formed in Mark's head. "Cachino, how big is the office?" "Eh, not that big." "And where is Big Sal's desk?" "Other side of the room from where the door is. Why?" "I've got an idea. Just make sure they're both in the room." Cachino looked confused, but then he shrugged his shoulders. "Alright." They came up to the door where Big Sal's office was. It was closed, so Cachino knocked. "Big Sal? Nero? You guys in there?" "Yeah," a voice from inside the office came, "you figure out what's going on?" Cachino looked at Mark. Mark motioned for Cachino to move and took out both pistols.

Cachino's eyes widened as he realized what Mark was about to do. "Cachino?" the same voice called out from in the office. Cachino ran around the corner as Mark kicked the door open. As Mark quickly examined the room, time seemed to slow down. Mark was aware that the drug referred to as "Jet" had a similar effect, although this was not due to any drug. It was due to his combat experience and ability to analyze a situation quickly and adjust if needed. He couldn't control when it happened, but when it did happen, it turned out to be extremely useful. Mark saw two men behind the desk, both holding submachine guns, and they were holding them across their chests, not in the ready position. Mark aimed for the heart, and shot and killed both men before they could react.

Mark went in to verify that they were dead. Cachino peeked in the doorway, and followed Mark in once he was sure it was safe. "Damn, kid, that was impressive. I'm pretty sure it's safe to say that they weren't expecting that." They heard a commotion as three guards burst in the room. They saw Mark holding the pistols, so they aimed for him and were about to shoot when Cachino intervened, scowling at them. "Lower you damn weapons!" The guards looked at each other, and then at the bodies of their ex-bosses. "But Cachino-" "I said lower your damn weapons **now!"** They reluctantly did. "Good. Now wait outside. There's been a change in management. He is not to be harmed on his way out, understood?" Cachino said, referring to Mark. The guards nodded and left the room.

Mark took out the journal and handed it to Cachino. "Here you go, per our agreement. Just so we're clear, Cachino, if I catch wind of anything like this happening under your watch, you will share their fate. Understood?" "Don't worry, kid. I think I learned not to fuck with you. I'll keep things clean…well clean-ish. Nothing to the extent of what they were doing. That was just insane." Mark nodded. "You'll find Clanden's body in the closet in his suite, and there's a dead guard down near the utility closet in the basement."

Mark paused for a second. "Well, it's been fun, Cachino, but I gotta be heading out now." "Alright, kid. If you ever want to come back here and gamble, come find me. I'll give you some chips on the house. It's the least I can do." Mark nodded and left the room. While he was walking toward the stairs, he heard Cachino order the guards to get rid of Big Sal's and Nero's bodies. He went back down to the lobby, got his weapons back, and made his way back to the 38 to report his success to House.

Mark went back into the 38 and straight up to the Penthouse. "House!" Mark called out as he went into House's office. House's face appeared on the screen. "Mr. Franklin, were you successful?" "Yeah," Mark said, a bit curtly. He was still kind of pissed at House for threatening to hurt Amata and Abby. "The Omertas were planning on placing chlorine bombs in the vents of the buildings on the Strip, and detonate them the next time the Legion tries to take the Dam. They would then gun down everyone who didn't die of asphyxiation, and use pulse grenades to take down the Securitrons."

"They were planning to hand the Strip over to the Legion in exchange for a place of honor in Caesar's ranks. The bombmaker is dead, and the guns they had acquired have been destroyed. The man who acquired them went to the NCR Embassy to turn himself in for smuggling. Big Sal and Nero are dead as well. Cachino is now running Gomorrah." "Well done, Mr. Franklin. I would have detected the bomb in the 38 and neutralized it, but nonetheless, the job is done. Here is your payment." A Securitron rolled over to Mark and handed him a sack of caps.

"Alright House, so what's next on the agenda?" Mark asked. "Your next assignment is to destroy the local contingent of the Brotherhood of Steel." Mark was stunned. 'Did he just say what I think he said?' While he was thinking that, all he could say was, "What?" "You heard me, Mr. Franklin. The Brotherhood of Steel are a bunch of bulging-eyed fanatics who believe that all pre-war technology belongs to them. They'll never accept my using an army of robots to defend New Vegas. While it is a fight I can win, I'd rather sidestep it altogether."

Mark took a couple of calming breaths before he spoke again. "House, I'm not sure if you're aware of this or not, but Christine and Veronica are, or were in Veronica's case, members of the Brotherhood. I don't think that they would be particularly happy with me if I did that, even though their association with the Brotherhood is tenuous." There was silence for a couple of moments. "So simply kill the two of them." Mark could not believe what House had just said. Kill Veronica and Christine? "You- you want me to kill them? Why?"

"It should be fairly obvious, Mr. Franklin. With them out of the picture, there will be nothing connecting you to the Brotherhood. You are already on thin ice as it is. If you wish to continue living here, I suggest that you get it done. Are we clear?" Mark stared at House, a hardened look in his eyes. "Yeah, we're clear. So, where should I start looking for them?" "Don't play stupid with me, Mr. Franklin. I believe that you already know exactly where they are."

House's face then disappeared from the screen. Mark turned and headed towards the elevator, trying to figure out exactly what he was going to do. The door opened to the Presidential Suite. There was no one in the hallway, so he headed towards his room. That was when Abby peeked out of the kitchen and saw Mark. Her face lit up when she saw him. "DADDY!" she yelled as she ran towards him. Mark put down the caps and the plasma rifle, and then scooped up Abby all in one motion. He smiled and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. Even after that unpleasant meeting with House, holding Abby and seeing her smile made him feel a lot better.

"Hey, sweetheart. Where is everyone?" "Well, Mr. Boone went out, Mr. Arcade is sleeping, ED-E's in the kitchen, and everyone else is in Auntie Ronnie's room." "Oh, and what are they doing in Auntie Ronnie's room?" Mark inquired. Abby shook her head. "I can't tell you. Mommy made me pinkie swear." Mark chuckled. "That's okay, Abby. There's nothing more sacred than a pinkie swear. Listen, Abby, I need to-" He was interrupted when the door to Veronica and Christine's room opened, and Amata and Cass came out.

Amata smiled, and then came over and gave a big kiss to both Mark and Abby. "Hey, honey. Did you do what you needed to do?" Mark nodded. "Yeah. It's taken care of." "So, what were they doin', Captain?" Cass asked. Mark thought about telling them, but quickly decided against it. "Trust me, you don't wanna know. Suffice to say, it was bad, but it has been taken care of." Amata had a concerned look on her face. "Was it really that bad?" she asked. "Yeah, but like I said, it is no longer an issue."

It was then that Christine and Veronica came out. Mark frowned, and then tried to look anywhere else but at them, knowing what he did. He put Abby down, grabbed the caps and the rifle, and went into his and Amata's room. "Is he okay?" Veronica asked after a few moments, directing the question to Amata. "I don't know, but I'm going to go find out." She went in the room, closing the door behind her. Mark had disarmed, and was in the process of removing his armor. She stood there for a couple of minutes, not saying anything, before breaking the silence. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, babe," Mark replied, although his expression and tone of voice belied that statement. "Mark, I'm calling bullshit. It's clear to see that something's bothering you. It's fairly obvious, and even if it wasn't, you know I can always tell." Mark finished removing his armor, leaving him in a white t-shirt, khaki shorts, and his combat boots. "I need to go down to the gym for a while." Mark made for the door, but Amata stood in front of it, arms crossed.

"Are you going to be this grumpy on our date tonight, or should we just cancel?" Mark shook his head, and gave Amata the barest of smiles. "No. I promised you that this would be the most romantic evening of your life, and I intend to make it so. I just need some time to myself right now to think." Her face softened. "Alright. You know that you can tell me anything, right?" He kissed her. "I know, babe. I know." She moved out of the way, letting him exit. He saw the others as he went to the elevator, but did not make eye contact with them.

(2 hours later)

It was 5:30 when Mark made his way back up to the Presidential Suite. He had lifted some weights, ran on the treadmill, and vented some of his anger by hitting the heavy bag. He had thought of various ways on how to deal with the conundrum he was facing with House and the Brotherhood. Before he decided on anything, however, he would need to run his ideas by Amata first. They affected everyone in the 38, but he trusted Amata above everyone else. The hallway was empty, so he made his way into his and Amata's room. He found some clothes laid out on the bed, with a note on top:

 _Mark_

 _Getting ready in Veronica and Christine's room. I suggest you shower and get ready as well. You will_ _not_ _be bringing any guns. However, I will allow you to bring your knife. This is not up for discussion._

 _Love_

 _Amata_

Mark put the note aside and looked at the clothing. They were some very nice clothes. Amata certainly did have great taste. After a shower, he got dressed and examined himself in the mirror. He felt a bit weird going out without any armor or guns, but he couldn't deny that he looked damn good. He went out in the hall and knocked on the door to Christine and Veronica's room. "Who is it?" Veronica's voice called out. "It's Mark. Just wondering if Amata is ready." Mark could hear whispers. "She'll be out in a minute," Veronica eventually responded.

Mark turned around and walked down the hallway a bit when he saw Arcade come out of his room. "Hey, Arcade." "Hey, Mark. Those the clothes Amata picked out for you?" "Yup. What do you think?" Arcade examined him closely. "Not bad. Not bad at all." "I agree," came a feminine voice from behind them. Mark turned around, and when he saw Amata, his jaw dropped, and he was certain his heart had skipped a beat. She was wearing the dress that Veronica had taken from the Sierra Madre, and it looked absolutely perfect on her, even with the slight baby bump.

She had somehow curled her hair, the ringlets framing her face perfectly. She was also wearing the same red heels she had worn on their first night in Vegas. "So," Amata said, appreciating the awestruck look on his face, "what do you think?" Mark walked over to her, got down on one knee, grabbed her right hand, and gently kissed the back of it. He then looked straight into her eyes. "I think that I am in the presence of a goddess, whose stunning beauty is unworthy to be seen by mortal eyes." Amata blushed. "A goddess, huh? I think that I could get used to being called that."

Mark stood up. "Amata, in all seriousness, you look beautiful. How did you curl your hair? And is that…are you wearing lipstick? Where did you get that?" "Why don't you ask Veronica?" Mark had been so entranced by Amata's radiance that he hadn't noticed the others around them. He reluctantly looked at Veronica, steeling himself as he did. "Veronica?" "Ok," Veronica responded, "so I _may have_ taken some other stuff from the Madre besides what I told you about, including some makeup and hair curlers. Not like anyone else was gonna use them."

Mark looked at Amata, and then looked back at Veronica. "Veronica, I owe you big time." Veronica grinned. "I might just take you up on that." "Daddy, you look handsome," Abby said. Mark picked her up and kissed her. "Thank you, Abby. Did you help mommy get ready?" She nodded. "Yup. Did I do a good job?" "Yes, Abby you did a wonderful job." Cass spoke up. "Ya do clean up real nice, Captain." Mark looked over and saw Cass lick her lips. Mark chuckled. "Thank you very much, Cass."

Mark then put Abby down. "Abby, we're going to be gone for the night. Can I count on you to behave while we're gone?" "Yes, daddy. I'll be on my best behavior." Veronica stood behind Abby and put her hands on the young girl's shoulders. "Yeah, Mark, we'll _all_ be on our best behavior." Mark saw a mischievous look in Veronica's eyes. "Uh huh," Mark said a bit skeptically. He looked back at Amata. "Are we bringing a change of clothes, or…" "Already taken care of. Abby, can you get my satchel bag, please?" Abby ran into Mark and Amata's room, and came back out with Amata's bag. She handed it to Amata. "Thank you, sweetheart," Amata said as she leaned down to kiss Abby.

"We'll be right down the street. Auntie Ronnie can call us if there's an emergency, ok?" Abby nodded. Amata looked at the adults. "Make sure she takes a bath and brushes her teeth. Bedtime is 8:30 pm, sharp. And absolutely **no** swearing. Looking at you, Cass." Cass put a hand over her heart. "Me? Swear? 'Mata, ya wound me." Amata smiled and rolled her eyes. "You ready, babe?" Mark asked. "As ready as I'm gonna be." Mark stuck out his right elbow, with Amata then holding onto it. "Well, then let us depart, milady." "As you wish, good sir." They headed towards the elevator, everyone saying goodbye as they went. "Wait," Veronica said as they stepped on the elevator, "who's in charge?" Amata and Mark looked at each other, and then back at the group. "Arcade," they said in unison, the door closing before any protest could be heard.

They walked out of the 38 and onto the Strip, Amata still hanging off Mark's arm. They received some looks as they made their way to Vault 21. Mark glared at the men who were staring at Amata, causing them to look away in a hurry. Amata enjoyed the looks of envy on the faces of the other women. It could have been envy due to the dress that he was wearing, but she believed it to be due to her handsome husband. 'Sorry, ladies, he's all mine,' Amata thought while grinning. She felt like one of those pre-war starlets that she had read about in those magazines that were in the 38. Veronica said that this dress did belong to a pre-war starlet, so maybe that was part of the reason.

They finally reached Vault 21, Mark holding the door open for her. They found Sarah Weintraub sitting behind the desk, reading a comic book. She didn't notice them, so Mark cleared his throat. "Oh, sorry," Sarah said as she put down the book. "Welcome to the Vault 21 Hotel and Gift Sho…" She trailed off as she looked at the two of them. She stood up. "Hey, I remember you two. You were in here a little while ago, right? With those friends of yours. Mark and…" She trailed off, trying to remember Amata's name. "Amata," Amata said, finishing the sentence for her. "Right, sorry." Sarah looked the two of them over. "Damn, you two look good! I definitely don't have any clothes that look like that here, especially that dress. So, what can I help you two with?"

"Thank you for the compliment, Sarah," Mark said. "My wife and I would actually like to rent a room for the night." "Oh, that's wonderful! If you'd like, I can give you a tour of the vault as well. It'll be fun! I promise!" Sarah looked at them expectantly. "Sure, Sarah, that would be wonderful," Amata answered. Sarah clasped her hands together. "Excellent! That'll be forty caps total, please." Amata pulled some caps out of her satchel bag and gave forty to Sarah. Sarah put them in a drawer in her desk.

"Ok, I can give you the tour now, if you'd like." "Actually, Sarah," Mark said, "we were-" Amata elbowed him in his side. "That'll be fine, Sarah," Amata said. "Excellent. Just give me _one_ moment." She went over to the gift shop, whose door was open. "Hey Mikey," Sarah said, talking to someone in the room, "can you watch the front desk for a bit? Thanks." She walked back over to the two of them. "Well, follow me, and please watch your step." She talked as they descended the stairs.

"This bunker protects the entrance to the vault- solid stone outside, thick steel inside." They came into the atrium, where there were blackjack and roulette tables set up, although they were not being used. "Above us is the control center for the vault's life-support systems, electric grid, radioactive shields, and all that jazz. This is the main game hall. This is where we settled big disputes between the vault's levels. Chosen representatives gambled against each other here. The winner earned the right to settle the dispute as wished by the collective."

Mark chuckled. "Wish we had something like that, Amata. Would've definitely simplified things." "Yeah, it sure would've," Amata responded. Sarah looked at the two them curiously. "What are you two talking about?" Wait, are you guys from a vault?" Mark smiled. "Yeah, we are, Sarah. You are looking at two former residents of Vault 101 near Washington, DC." Sarah's eyes widened. "I've never met anyone from other vaults before! Tell me, what was it like?" Mark and Amata looked at each other. "Maybe later, Sarah," Mark said. "I believe we have a tour to get on with." She looked a bit disappointed, but immediately perked back up. "Ok, but I'm holding you to that."

She then led them through the atrium and over to the diner. There were a few other patrons eating at the tables. It was mostly the same décor and set-up as Vault 101, maybe a bit bigger. "Here is our diner. It's open from 8 am until 8pm, serving a wonderful selection of food." She paused for a moment, reminiscing. "Ah, we used to have some bitchin' parties in here. Pain in the ass to clean up later, but it was worth it."

"Sarah," Amata said, "um, if you don't mind me asking, why was this Vault turned into a hotel?" Sarah's face dropped slightly. "No, it's okay. Years ago, when Mr. House was renovating Vegas, he wanted to get rid of the vault, but the residents resisted. We insisted that we solve things the way our vault always had: by gambling. Well, um, unfortunately, we lost." Mark and Amata could tell that this was a bit of a painful memory for Sarah. "Mr. House wanted to fill the entire thing in with concrete, but my brother and I, Sheldon, convinced him to leave the topmost levels intact and turn it into a hotel. He stripped out the useful electronics and filled in the rest with concrete."

Amata put a comforting hand on Sarah's right arm. "I'm so sorry, Sarah." Sarah gave them a half-hearted smile. "Thanks. I mean, it'll never be what it once was, but at least it's still here. It's my home, and it's still serving a purpose similar to what is was supposed to do, to give people shelter, even if it is just for a night or two." Oddly enough, what Sarah just said reminded Mark of something that Moira Brown had told him when he asked her why she did her experiments:

" _It's like…did you ever try to put a piece of broken glass back together? Even if the pieces fit, you can't make it whole again the way it was. But if you're clever, you can still use the pieces to make other useful things. Maybe even something wonderful, like a mosaic. Well, the world broke, just like glass. And everyone's trying to put it back together like it was, but it'll never come together the same way."_

Mark had found those words oddly inspirational. Then again, Moira is an odd woman. Odd, but good. She tries to see the good in everything, even in a world full of horrors. Then here was Sarah, who had basically just said the same thing: things won't always be the same as they once were, but old things can be changed and adapted to make new things. He chuckled internally, wondering what would happen if the two of them were ever in the same room together.

"Mark?" He realized that Amata was trying to get his attention. "Sorry," Mark said, "I zoned out. What's going on?" "We're continuing with the tour." "Right, sorry. Lead on, Sarah." Sarah led them back through the atrium and down a hallway. She pressed a button next to the door. "This will be your room." Mark and Amata looked around. It was a standard vault room, with a bed, a desk, a computer, a bathroom, and a dresser. She then moved on to the room right next to it. "This is my room. Always has been." She opened the door. "Actually, if you two don't mind, I need to use the little girls room before we continue. Come on, you can wait in here." They walked into Sarah's room. It was the same room as theirs, except Sarah had a few pictures on her desk.

Sarah went into the restroom, leaving Mark and Amata in her room. Amata sat on the bed, while Mark looked at the pictures. There was one of Sarah and whom Mark guessed was probably her brother. The next one he looked at was a woman who looked like Sarah, but it wasn't her, exactly, and a black-haired man. The third one had the same woman, but a different man. Mark looked away, and then did a double-take. He picked up the picture and examined it more closely. It couldn't be. There was no way. "Amata," Mark said, his voice catching in his throat a bit, "could you, uh, could you come here for a minute?"

She stood up and walked over to him. "What's going on, Mark?" she asked, a bit concerned. "Look at this picture. Tell me what you see." Amata furrowed her brow as she examined it. "I see…a woman who kind of looks like Sarah, and-" Her eyes widened. "No. It can't be. That's impossible." "Well, it can't be impossible, because it's right in front of us." The picture showed a woman who was likely Sarah's mother, and a young man who looked extremely similar to Mark's father. "Mark, the odds of this are astronomical," Amata said.

The door to the bathroom opened before Mark could respond to that. "Hey, what's going on?" Sarah asked, a bit confused. Mark held the picture up to Sarah. "Sarah, who is this picture of?" he asked, still in a bit of shock. "That's my mother and my birth father. Why?" "Sarah, what was the man's name?" Sarah wasn't sure why they were asking about them. "Why are you asking?" "Sarah, please, just answer the question. It's important." Sarah looked at the faces of her two guests, both looking like they had seen a ghost. "Please, Sarah," Amata implored, "it actually really is important." "His name is, uh, James…uh, James Franklin, that's it."

Mark closed his eyes, trying to stifle tears, and then opened them again. "Sarah," Mark said, "don't, um, don't freak out or anything, but, um, this man, he's…he's my dad. My name is Mark Franklin. Sarah, this may be hard to believe, but I…I think that you're my sister." Sarah's eyes widened, and her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, trying, but unable to find words. She began to think that they were joking around with her, but the looks on their faces seemed extremely genuine.

Amata stood back and examined the two of them. "You know, now that I see the two of you right next to each other, there are some similarities in your facial structures." Mark looked at Sarah's face closely. There was definitely a resemblance to what he saw in the mirror every morning. "That first night in Vegas," Mark said quietly. "What?" Sarah asked. "That night that we came in here. I thought that there was something familiar about you. Now I know what it is."

Sarah tried to recall that night. "You're right. I remember now. There was something about you that I just couldn't put my finger on, and it was driving me insane." She paused for a moment as tears began to roll down her cheeks. She then hugged Mark around the torso, laying her head on his shoulder. "Oh my god, you really are my brother! I thought I was lucky enough to have one brother, and now I have two!" Mark returned the hug. "And I have a sister."

Amata watched the two of them hug. She was tearing up, but smiling as well. She couldn't help it. "Family hug," she announced. Mark brought her into the hug with one of his arms. It was a weird and awkward three-way hug full of people crying, but Mark didn't care. He found someone else who was related to him by blood, and that was all that mattered.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. There actually is a picture of the Lone Wanderer's parents in Sarah's room in-game as a shout-out to Fallout 3. Look it up if you don't believe me. I just twisted it a little. I have had this planned for a while, long before the group came to Vegas. I hope that you like it. The last sentence of the chapter sounds a little awkward, but I honestly couldn't find a better way to end it. Until next time.**


	53. Chapter 53: Written In The Stars

**I hope everyone is doing well. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**

A couple of minutes later, everyone had calmed down and sat down on the bed. Mark sat in between Amata and Sarah, Amata on his right,Sarah on his left. "So, um, Sarah," Mark said, "how long ago was that picture taken?" Sarah scrunched up her face as she thought. "Well, it's gotta be close to twenty-four, twenty-five years ago or so, if I've done my math correctly." "And how old are you, Sarah?"

"Mark, you should know that you never ask a lady her age," Sarah said, trying but failing to maintain a serious façade. She laughed. "I'm kidding, Mark. I'm twenty-five. Born July 15th, 2252." Mark processed that information, not liking what he was coming up with. "Sarah, my dad left before you were born, didn't he?" Mark was praying that he was wrong, that his dad didn't knock up a girl and then abandon her before the kid was even born. He _really_ hoped that he was wrong.

"Well, yes, but-" Mark groaned, and Amata gasped in shock. Noting the looks on their faces, Sarah continued. "It didn't happen like you think. He worked for the Followers, and he and my mom were good friends, and one day he told her that he and some of the Followers were heading east the next day. The way that my mom told it, they had a few drinks, and one thing led to another, and about nine months later, one Sarah Grace Weintraub was born. She said that she wasn't mad at him, that it was kind of her fault too for not being more careful."

Mark and Amata were both visibly relieved at this fact. "Well, Sarah," Mark said, "It looks like the conditions under which we were both conceived are extremely similar." Sarah looked at him, confusion evident on her face. Mark continued. "Apparently," he said, "the only way for my dad to conceive a child is to be drunk first, because I'm fairly certain that he was drunk the day that I was conceived as well." Amata snickered. "Did he actually tell you that?" Sarah asked. "No, but I have a holotape recording of him trying to get frisky with my mom while she was recording notes for something, and it was dated about nine months before I was born, so I believe my guess to be fairly sound."

"Did he just leave something like that lying around?" "Yeah, something like that, Sarah. Just don't ask where I found it. That's part of this whole other thing." "Ok," Sarah said, "can I ask you when your birthday is? I told you mine. It's only fair." "My birthday is May 16th, 2258," Mark said. "Mine is August 12th, 2258," Amata added. "Yeah, I thought that you guys looked younger than me. I guess that makes you my little bro," Sarah said, smiling and giving Mark a side-hug. Mark smiled. "Yeah, I guess it does, big sis." Everyone chuckled. "So, um, are your mom and dad somewhere in the area? I'd, uh, I'd really like to meet them."

Mark got a pained look in his eyes, and Sarah immediately got a bad feeling. Amata could sense his pain and started to rub his back. Mark looked down at the floor as he spoke. "No, Sarah, they're not. My mother, she, uh, she died a few minutes after giving birth to me. Heart attack. And my, well, I guess our father, he died about five months ago." Sarah's eyes filled with tears, due to both seeing her brother upset, and at a lost opportunity. She had lost her mother and adoptive father years ago, and she had secretly hoped one day to meet her biological father, even if it was highly unlikely that she would ever get the chance.

"How did, um, how did he die?" Sarah asked softly. Amata sat there listening, wondering what Mark would reveal regarding the circumstances surrounding James' death. He had told everyone at the 38 that James had died to protect him, but went no further than that. She thought Mark might reveal a bit more to his sister, or half-sister, technically, seeing as James was her biological father.

"He…he died saving me, Sarah. He died a hero." Sarah scooted closer to him and put a comforting arm around his shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Mark." "Thank you, Sarah. I appreciate it." Sarah didn't want to press for any more information about James' death. He would tell her when he was ready. "Could you, um, could you tell me about him? What was he like?" Mark attempted to compose himself, but was having trouble. "He was, um, he was…he was..."

Amata, sensing that Mark was having trouble speaking about it, spoke for him. "He was a great man, Sarah, and it was an honor and a privilege for me to have known him. He was kind, caring, selfless, and his moral and ethical values were far above reproach. Traits, I might add, that he just happened to pass on to his wonderful son." Amata laid her head on Mark's right shoulder. Mark took hold of her left hand, and that gave him the strength to speak. "Yes, he was all of those things. He was also a visionary. The Capital Wasteland owes him a debt that can never truly be repaid, not that he would ever ask it to be repaid to him. That was just the kind of guy that he was."

"Above all of that, though, he was a great father. The best father that a guy could ask for. I'm sure that if he knew of your existence, he would have found a way to come and see you. I know that he would've loved to meet you. Family was everything to him, and it is to me as well." "He…he sounded like a great man. I really wish that I could've gotten a chance to meet him, but I can tell that his spirit lives on in the two of you." She paused as an uneasy silence settled over the room. "I appreciate the two of you sharing that with me. I know that that couldn't have been easy for you guys."

Mark smiled and wiped away his tears. "No problem, Sarah. Why don't we move onto happier topics, though? Sarah, you should know that you're an aunt." Sarah gasped. "I am?" "Yup," Amata said. "We adopted a seven-year-old girl named Abigail Celeste Fields, although she prefers to be called Abby. Oh, and I'm also pregnant." Amata flattened her dress and showed Sarah the baby bump. "How far along are you?" Sarah asked. "About two months. It was a bit of a surprise, but we couldn't be happier." "So, where is my niece? I want to meet her."

"She's across the street with some friends of ours at the Lucky 38," Mark replied. "And before you ask, yes, I am the Courier that everyone's been talking about." Sarah's eyes widened. "Really?" Mark and Amata both nodded. "Oh my god, this is one of the best night nights of my life!" Tears fell from her eyes again, but the smile on her face indicated that these were tears of joy. "Not only do I find a brother that I never knew I had, but he's also the freaking Courier. I also have a sister-in-law, a niece, and another niece or nephew on the way." She started fanning her face with her hands. "I…I'm just so happy! This is awesome!" Mark and Amata both had wide grins at Sarah's enthusiasm.

Sarah wiped the tears away with a sleeve of her jumpsuit. A silence descended over the room. Mark then looked at Amata. "Amata, I'm sorry. This wasn't exactly the date night that I had planned on." She chuckled. "It's okay, Mark. I don't think any of us could've predicted that this would happen. Besides, the night is still young." They gazed into each other's eyes, making Sarah feel like she was intruding on a private moment. She then got an idea, and stood up. "Hey, guys," Sarah said, trying to get their attention.

They looked at Sarah. "Sorry, Sarah," Amata said, "were you saying something?" "Well, kind of. If you'll just come with me, I'd like to do something for the two of you." Sarah was out the door before they could respond, so they got up and followed her. She led them through the atrium and back into the diner. Sarah walked up to the counter, where there was a young woman with long black hair, wearing a vault jumpsuit standing near the register. "Hey, Susan, how's it going?" The woman smiled. "Not bad, Sarah. What can I do for you?" "Well, I just wanted to let you know that their," she said, indicating Mark and Amata, who were standing behind her, "dinner for this evening is on the house, drinks and all."

"Sarah, that is not necessary," Mark objected. "We have plenty of caps. We can pay for our own dinner." "He's right, Sarah," Amata added. "No," Sarah said, holding out a hand to stop any further protest, "I insist. Consider it partly as a late wedding gift, and partly as an apology for me taking time away from your date night." "Sarah," Mark said, "you don't have to apologize for that, because there's nothing to apologize for. I know we just met and all, but you should know that the two of us always have time for family."

"I know," Sarah said, "and I appreciate it, but I still feel bad. So, please, enjoy. I need to get back to the front desk, anyway. I am the manager, after all. I have to set an example for the other employees. If you need anything, and I mean anything, please do not hesitate to come find me. Enjoy the rest of your night. How about we have breakfast together tomorrow? Say, around eight?" "That'll be fine, Sarah, and thank you," Amata said. "No problem," Sarah replied. She then gave each of them a hug and then headed out of the diner. Mark and Amata looked at each other, both shrugging simultaneously. They then looked at the cashier, who had watched their exchange with Sarah curiously.

"So, uh, Susan, right?" Amata said, speaking to the cashier. The woman nodded. "What's on the menu?" She handed the two of them a sheet of paper, listing their food and drink options. It was a pretty good selection. "Ok," Mark said after a minute or so, "I'll have a bighorner steak, some mutfruit, and a Nuka-Cola please." Susan wrote it down on a pad. "And for you, miss?" "I'll have a…a gecko steak, some banana yucca fruit, and I'll have a Nuka-Cola as well, please." They handed the menu back to her. "Wonderful. I'll put that right in for you. Please have a seat anywhere, and I'll bring you your drinks in a minute."

They thanked her, and then took a booth in the corner. They waited for their drinks in silence, listening to the activities of the vault-turned-hotel. Susan brought them their drinks a minute later. "So, this diner is certainly bringing back some memories, isn't it?" Amata asked, looking around. "Yeah," Mark replied, frowning slightly, "some good, and some…not so good." Mark's mind went back to the night he escaped from the vault, seeing Agnes Taylor's body on the ground of Vault 101's diner.

Amata, realizing where his mind was going to, snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Hey, none of that. I get it. I saw Mrs. Taylor's body, too. She died of a heart attack, Mark, and you know that already. There was nothing that you could've done, so there's no point in going down that road. That whole situation was chaotic. What you need to do is remember the good times we had in our diner. Like…oh! Remember the time we had that food fight with the other kids when we were eleven?"

Mark smiled as he remembered that. "Oh, yeah. I remember that your dad was _pissed."_ "Yes, yes he was. And it was not fun trying to get all the mac and cheese out of my hair while I got a lecture from him about not wasting food. I also remember that a certain _someone_ licked some mashed potatoes off my face." "Well, it was still food, and I was hungry. Besides, a face that beautiful shouldn't be covered up by anything, although I'll make an exception for that lipstick."

She smiled. "You always know just what to say, don't you?" "Well, as I recall, someone did tell me that I have a talented tongue. One that will hopefully be put to good use later this evening," Mark said, grinning. Amata blushed, and then they descended into a comfortable silence. A couple of minutes later, Mark spoke again. "My life can't be normal, can it?" "No, probably not, but whoever said that normal was a good thing? Personally, I like a little bit of excitement in my life, and excitement is drawn to you like bloatflies to a rotting brahmin corpse."

"Yeah, you're right, as usual." "So, um, did your dad ever mention anything about being from out here?" Mark thought back. "Well, I mean, he obviously couldn't tell me anything when we were in Vault 101, so the only time we got to talk about anything like that was when we went from Vault 112 to the purifier. All he told me about his life was that he did come from somewhere near the west coast, and came east with a group of doctors. Most of the conversation revolved around Project Purity, since that was the pressing concern. I was naïve and thought that we'd have more time to talk about his life. I would've been right, too, if the fucking Enclave hadn't interfered."

Amata could see him getting worked up, so she gently rubbed circles on the back of his right hand. "Hey, calm down. I know that that's still a sore spot for you, but we're on a date right now, and I was promised a romantic evening, and I intend to hold you to that." The scowl on his face transformed into a smile. "You're right, I'm sorry. Forgive me." He held her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You're forgiven," Amata said.

"You know," Amata continued after a moment, "something just occurred to me." "What?" "Well, when Sarah asked if we were from a vault, wouldn't our pip-boys be dead giveaways that we were?" Mark thought about it, and realized that she was right. He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe she just didn't notice, or maybe she thought that we had found them scavenging or something. I honestly don't think that it really matters in the long run." "I know," Amata said, "but it was bugging me for some reason."

A few minutes later, their food came. They then ate, enjoying the food and each other's company. Once thy were done, Mark stood up. "Would you care to dance, oh beautiful and charming wife of mine?" She smiled and stood up as well. "Oh, you certainly are laying it on thick tonight, aren't you?" "Is it working?" "Yes, it is, and yes, I would love to dance."

Amata left a few caps on the table as a tip, and then was led by Mark into the atrium. She went and put her bag in their room, and then joined Mark in an open area of the atrium, away from the card tables. "So, what shall we be dancing to?" Amata asked. Mark was looking through his pip-boy. "Well, how about a bit of music from back home, courtesy of the all-powerful Three Dog?" Three Dog had allowed Mark to load the various songs that played on Galaxy News Radio onto his pip-boy before he left DC. Mark missed the charismatic DJ and his signature howling.

Amata laughed. "Sounds like a plan. Which songs did you have in mind?" Mark set a few of them to play in a row. "That's for me to know, and you to find out." The first song began to play as they held each other and started to dance.

" _I don't want to set the world on fire_

 _I just want to start_

 _A flame in your heart_

 _In my heart, I have but one desire_

 _And that one is you_

 _No other will do_

 _I've lost all ambition for worldly acclaim_

 _I just want to be the one you love_

 _And with your admission that you'll feel the same_

 _I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of…"_

As they danced, the other patrons began to watch them, although Mark and Amata paid them no notice, only having eyes for one another. Once that song was finished, the next song, "Crazy He Calls Me," came on. While they danced to that, Amata asked Mark, "do you think that we should check on Abby?" "No. She'll be fine, babe. She's in a virtually impenetrable casino, guarded by Securitrons, ED-E, and five people who adore her, three of those people having military training, and all of whom have access to a plethora of high-powered weaponry. Plus, Arcade can deal with any medical stuff if the need arises."

"I know that it's your first night away from her since you found her, and you're nervous. So am I, to be honest, but the others can handle things without us for one night." "Yeah, I guess you're right. Let's just enjoy ourselves." She paused for a moment. "Abby's gonna manipulate all of them, isn't she?" Mark chuckled. "Oh, I'm counting on it. But, you know, as her parents, we had to lay down the law and all that."

The next song, "Bingo, Bango, Bongo," was a bit faster than the first two songs, so they changed their movements to keep in time with the music, Mark twirling Amata a couple of times. They were both clearly enjoying themselves. They had attracted a crowd, including Sarah, who was leaning against the doorframe, having come down to see what the commotion was. She watched her half-brother and sister-in-law dance to music that she was unfamiliar with, although it was very catchy. They were clearly having a wonderful time, and watching them made her smile. To her, the two of them looked like they were made for each other.

Once that song finished, Mark paused the music so that they could catch their breath. That was when they finally noticed everyone looking at them. "Well," Mark said, "looks like we attracted a crowd. Due to your radiant beauty, no doubt." Amata blushed. "You keep talking like that and I'll give these people something else to watch," giving him a saucy wink. Mark laughed. "Oh, what would your father say if he heard you talking like that?" Mark asked, clearly joking. "He could say whatever he wanted, but I am a grown woman, and I will say and do whatever I please. For example…" Amata pulled Mark in and gave him a searing kiss. Once she pulled away, she noticed Sarah looking at them from the doorway. Sarah gave her a small wave. Amata returned it, and then got an idea.

"Mark," Amata said quietly, "I think that you should ask Sarah to dance." "What? Amata, no. I know we just had this whole big, emotional thing, but tonight's all about us. We both deserve it." "I know, and you've been a perfect gentleman all evening, and I'm very proud of you. Sarah's family, Mark, and I remember you telling her that we always make time for family. Besides, I need to rest my feet for a few minutes." She pushed him slightly. "Now go ask your sister to dance. That's an order."

Mark realized that she had a point, and that it would be nice to dance with Sarah, so he walked towards the staircase, which Sarah had already started walking up again. She was about halfway up when Mark got over there. "Sarah, wait." She turned around and looked at him. "Yeah, Mark?" Mark climbed up close to her, extending a hand. "Can I interest you in a dance?" She became flustered and started to stammer. "No, Mark, I…you and Amata…I, I couldn't…" Mark gave her a reassuring smile.

"Sarah, it's okay. Amata said that he needs to rest for a bit, but I still feel like dancing. I told you that I always have time for family, and I believe that dancing with my sister falls into that category. Please, Sarah, it would mean a lot to me. Just one dance. That's all I ask." Sarah looked into his eyes and saw nothing but honesty in them. With him being such a gentleman, Sarah could no longer refuse. "Ok, Mark." She extended her hand, with him taking it and leading her back down the stairs.

The crowd had mostly dispersed, leaving Amata sitting at the tables, and a couple of others on the other side of the atrium. Sarah saw Amata smiling at the two of them. Sarah raised an eyebrow and jerked her head slightly in Mark's direction, silently asking if this was okay with her. Amata nodded, giving Sarah the go-ahead. That put Sarah's mind at ease.

They went over to the area that Mark and Amata had recently occupied. "Do you have any preferences, Sarah? Slow? Fast? Somewhere in-between?" "Uh, somewhere in-between, I guess. Just so you know, it's been a while since I danced last, and honestly, I'm not really that good." "I'm sure you'll do fine, Sarah. Just feel the rhythm of the music and go with it." Mark looked through the songs, and found one that would be perfect:

" _Times have changed_

 _And we've often rewound the clock_

 _Since the Puritans got a shock_

 _When they landed on Plymouth Rock_

 _If today_

 _Any shock they should try to stem_

' _Stead of landing on Plymouth Rock_

 _Plymouth Rock would land on them…"_

True, Sarah wasn't the greatest dancer, but Mark enjoyed dancing with her, and she with him, once she loosened up a bit. "Wow, you were really good," Sarah said once the song ended. "Well, constantly dodging bullets forces you to be quick on your feet, and believe me, I've had to dodge a lot of them. You weren't so bad yourself, either." Mark then gave her a short bow, and then lightly kissed the back of her right hand. "Thank you for dancing with me this evening, my dear sister Sarah. You are an absolutely lovely woman, and I look forward to our breakfast in the morning to continue to learn more about you." Sarah giggled and blushed profusely.

"Me…me too, Mark. Now, I really do need to get back to the front desk." Mark nodded. "Well then, do not let me keep you." Sarah gave him a quick hug and then headed back towards the stairs. As she did, she looked over at Amata, who was looking at her while sporting a big grin. 'Thank you,' Sarah mouthed. Amata gave her a thumbs up, and then Sarah headed up the stairs, a beaming smile on her face.

Mark went to sit down next to Amata. "I think that you made her night, Mark, more so than you already had, and you certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself." "Well, it's kind of hard to not enjoy myself when I get to dance with the two most beautiful women in the entire world." She kissed him. "Come on, Romeo, let's go dance some more." "Your wish is my command, Juliet." She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Smartass." They danced for a little while longer before they retired to their room for the evening. They spent the remainder of their evening making love and then talking about inconsequential things before they both fell asleep around 10:30 PM.

(The next morning)

After sharing a shower, Mark and Amata met Sarah for breakfast at 8 AM, as promised. Sarah was already waiting for them as they entered. She stood up from the booth and gave them both a hug. "Good morning, you two." "Good morning, Sarah," Amata said. "Morning, sis," Mark said as they all sat down. "Did the two of you sleep well?" "Yes, Sarah, we slept _extremely_ well," Mark said, grinning at Amata. Amata swatted Mark on the shoulder. "Cut it out, you." Susan came over and took their orders. "Mark," Sarah said as Susan walked away, "I really enjoyed our dance last night. He was quite the gentleman, Amata. It seems that you've trained him well."

"Yes, it is some of my finest work, if I do say so myself," Amata said, taking a sip of water. Mark didn't respond to that, instead directing a question to Sarah. "So, Sarah, do you have a boyfriend? Or girlfriend? Not that it matters to us which team that you play for." Amata nodded in agreement. "And what if I play for both teams?" Sarah teased. Mark and Amata both laughed. "Doesn't matter, Sarah. As long as you're happy," Mark said. "No, I'm straight. I did, um, experiment once, but that was a long time ago, and it really wasn't for me. And, no, I don't have a boyfriend." Mark was surprised. "Really? I'd have thought that guys would be lining up to have the chance to be your boyfriend."

Sarah blushed. "That's sweet of you to say, Mark. It's just, you know, kind of hard to form any type of relationship with anyone that comes through here when they only stay for a night or two." "Well, what about outside of the vault?" Amata asked. "Yeah, I, um, I've never actually left the vault. Like, ever." She looked ashamed. "Sarah, are you agoraphobic?" Mark asked. She nodded and looked down at her lap. "I know, it's stupid, right? Of all the things to be afraid of," Sarah answered in a self-depreciating tone of voice. She expected them to look at her with pity, but when she looked up, she saw nothing but concern for her.

"Sarah," Mark said, "you don't have to be ashamed. Being afraid of open spaces is a legitimate fear. You grew up in a vault, got comfortable, and just didn't want to go outside. Neither of us think any less of you." "What about you two? You guys grew up in a vault. Were you ever scared to go outside?" Mark and Amata looked at each other, having another silent conversation. Sarah was treading close to topic they weren't ready to discuss. "Well, yes and no," Amata answered. "That's a story for another day. You know, in all of the excitement of last night, you never told us anything about your family."

The food came at that moment. "She's right, Sarah," Mark said. "You heard about mine, and I'd very much like to hear about yours." So, Sarah told them of her life growing up in the vault with her younger brother, Sheldon, who was also technically her half-brother, her mother, Emily, and her adoptive father, David. Her mother was a doctor, her father an NCR trooper. How the two of them had fallen in love. They were happy, even when Sarah learned that David was not her biological father.

David had died in the line of duty when Sarah was 16, and her mother died of cancer just a few months later. Then came the situation with House a couple years later, with her brother adopting the name "Michael Angelo," and being forced to move into the workshop next door, creating any signs that House needed. Her brother was also agoraphobic, so it had been a few years since she actually saw or spoke to him. The only communication that they had was sending messages via computer. She said that she enjoyed being the manager, even though they had to give fifty percent of their revenue to House.

"So, yeah, that's basically been my life up to this point. Honestly, I really can't complain that much," Sarah said in conclusion. "We're sorry about your parents, Sarah," Mark said. "Thank you. And, um, thanks for listening. No one that comes through here really cares about my past," Sarah said. "Well," Mark said, "we're family, and that's what we do for each other." "Sarah, does your brother still have his pip-boy?" Amata asked. "As far as I know. Why?" Amata looked at Mark, and Mark nodded.

"Sarah," Mark said, "what would you say if there was a way for you to be able to actually, like actually talk to Sheldon without either of you having to step outside?" "Mark, if you could like really, seriously do that, then I would love you forever." She had longed to hear her brother's voice since the day he left. The messages were nice, but it was hard to convey emotions with only words on a computer screen.

Mark grinned at her. "Well, then you are in luck, Sarah, because our pip-boys," Mark said, motioning to his and Amata's, "along with our friend Veronica's, have been modified so that we can send messages, talk to one another, and track where the others are. So, if you want, we could do that to the two of yours so that you could talk to Sheldon again." Tears formed in Sarah's eyes, and she was on the verge of hyperventilating, so she took a sip of water to help calm herself down. "Mark, I- I would absolutely love it if you could do that."

"Well, Sarah, then you can consider it done. It might be a couple of days before we can get back here, though. We have some business to take care of that we've ignored for far too long. Also, we will need you to contact your brother and let him know that we're coming." "Trust me, the delay is fine. Waiting a couple more days won't hurt, and I can guarantee that I will be sending him the longest message that I've ever sent. I wanted to send one last night, but I wanted to get to know you guys better first. Sheldon's a great guy. I know you two will love him." "I'm sure we will, Sarah," Amata said.

She then checked her pip-boy. It was a little after 9 AM. "Mark, we should really be getting back." Mark checked his own pip-boy. "Yeah, you're right, we probably should. Time to see how our babysitters performed." Mark stood up and then helped Amata to her feet. Amata swung her satchel over her shoulder. "Do you mind if I walk with you to the door?" Sarah asked as she stood up as well. "Not at all, Sarah," Amata answered.

The three of them made it up to the lobby. "Thank you for the wonderful time, Sarah," Amata said as they stood at the door. "Oh, it was my pleasure to have you two here," Sarah said as she gave each of them a hug. "You two are welcome back here anytime. I'll even keep that room you stayed in reserved for you both, so you now have your own room here as well." "Thanks, Sarah," Mark said, "and just so you know, if you ever need anything, or need help with anything, all you have to do is ask, and if it is within my power to do it, it'll get done."

"Thanks. Hey, wait, you two never told me about growing up in your vault." "Oh, you're right Sarah, we're sorry," Amata said, looking a bit sheepish. "We'll tell you next time, we promise." Sarah smiled. "Ok, that sounds good. Next time you come, could you bring Abby as well?" Mark nodded. "Definitely. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to meet you." The three of them then said their goodbyes, Amata and Mark heading back to the 38, while Sarah made a mad dash to the computer in her room.

They stepped off the elevator into the Presidential Suite. There was no noise, so they looked around. They first stopped at Abby's room, noting that the door was slightly ajar. They looked in and saw one of the funniest, and most adorable things that they had ever seen. Veronica, Christine, Arcade, and Abby were all sleeping in the same bed, albeit in different positions. Veronica had her head on one of the pillows, laying on her back, with Abby sleeping on top of her, Veronica's armed wrapped securely around her. Arcade was sleeping next to her, although on his stomach, his face partially obscured by the pillow. Mark saw that he still had his glasses on, and they could hear a faint snore. Christine was laying across the edge of the bed, one of her arms being used as a pillow while the other was hanging off the edge of the bed.

Both Mark and Amata stifled chuckles at the scene. Not wanting to disturb them, Amata quietly closed the door. They passed by the game room, and saw Boone and Cass sleeping near the bar. Boone had his head on the bar itself, while Cass had apparently fallen off her stool, lying on her stomach on the floor, hair askew, a small puddle of drool near her mouth. When they saw the multitude of bottles and shot glasses on the bar and floor, and it didn't take a genius to figure out they had had a drinking contest the previous night.

They went to their room, wondering how ED-E had gotten trapped in there. He beeped and then flew out into the hallway. Mark just shook his head and closed the door. "Well, it seems like we weren't the only ones who had a good night last night," Amata said as she took a seat on the couch. "I just wish we had a camera for that scene in Abby's room. That was adorable." Mark took a seat next to her and put an arm around her. "Yeah, that would've been a nice keepsake, but the opportunity for teasing is still endless. I'm already imagining the possibilities."

Amata saw the grin on his face. He certainly was. "Mark," Amata said, her voice becoming more serious, "you really need to tell me about what House said to you yesterday." Mark sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He had been expecting this, but it wasn't making it any easier. He stood up and started pacing in front of the couch. "I…it's complicated, babe. There are a lot of different factors in play. What he wants me to do, it affects a lot of things, a lot of people." "Well then talk to me, Mark. It's what I'm here for. It's what husbands and wives do, to be a sounding board for each other. Tell me what's going on, and maybe I can uncomplicate things."

He really didn't want to do this here, but she was right. He had to tell her at some point, and he knew that she wasn't going to let it go. He sat back down next to her. "Ok. The thing is, House wants me to-" Mark was interrupted with a knock on the door. He let out a sigh of relief. "Come in," he quickly called out. The door opened, and a missile with blonde hair ran over to them, leaping into Mark's lap. Unfortunately, one of her knees caught him square in the groin. He muffled a painful groan. "Mommy! Daddy! I missed you!" Amata took her from Mark, realizing what Abby had inadvertently done.

"We missed you too, Abby," Amata said as she gave the girl a kiss. She looked up and saw Arcade and Veronica standing in the doorway. Amata motioned for them to come in and sit on the other couch. "Did you have fun?" Amata asked the young girl. Abby gave a big smile. "Oh yeah, we had tons of fun. Auntie Ronnie showed me how her power fist works, and we made shadow puppets, and we played truth or dare." She grinned mischievously. "I dared Mister Arcade to kiss Auntie Ronnie… _on the lips."_ Both Mark and Amata burst out laughing, Mark having recovered from his earlier injury. Arcade and Veronica both blushed and looked away from each other.

"Oh, Arcade," Mark said through his laughter, "is that why we found you in bed with Christine and Veronica? Couldn't get enough, so you worked the ol' Gannon charm on 'em?" Arcade was sputtering, making Veronica laugh as well. Veronica slapped Arcade on the back. "Yeah, he was a real smooth talker. Took almost no time at all to get us fair maidens into bed with him." Arcade simply smiled and shook his head, taking the good-natured ribbing in stride. Amata decided that he had been embarrassed enough. "Ok, Abby, so what else happened?" "Mister Arcade said I had been good, so he gave me a Nuka-Cola, and a Fancy Lads Snack Cake, and then another Nuka-Cola, and then I ran around for a while, and then I got really tired and I think I fell asleep. It was _really_ late."

Amata stared at Arcade and Veronica. "How late did she go to bed, exactly?" "All you, Arcade. You were in charge, after all," Veronica said. Arcade glared at her, while she just smiled innocently. He looked back at Amata and mumbled something. "Sorry, what was that, Arcade?" Mark asked. "10:30," Arcade said. "10:30, Arcade? 10:30?" Amata chastised. Mark put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down before she started to go on a rant. "Babe, let him explain." He looked at Arcade. "Arcade, explain."

"Well, like she said, she had been really good, so you know, I thought that she deserved a treat. So, I gave her the soda and the snack, but then she wanted another soda. I said no, but, she pouted and gave me those puppy-dog eyes, and that look, it was like she was staring into my soul. I couldn't resist. It was like, 7:30 at this point, and I realized too late that she wouldn't be able to work the sugar out of her system in time for 8:30, so we let her stay up until it wore off, but I didn't think that it would take three hours. We played with her, and when she finally got tired, she wanted to hear a story, so the three of us just made one up on the spot, and then I guess we all just fell asleep."

He chuckled. "I don't know how the hell the two of you can resist that look." Mark and Amata both gave Abby a kiss. "it's very easy, Arcade," Mark said. "Amata's been giving me that same look our entire lives, so I'm more or less immune, and since she's the one giving it, it doesn't work on her. You, however, fell for it, hook, line, and sinker." Arcade chuckled. "Outsmarted by a seven-year-old…not my finest moment. No matter, I guess. How was your date?" "Yeah," Veronica said, "I want details, so spill."

"It was very romantic," Amata said. "We had a very nice dinner, we danced, and then we, um-" Amata was looking to phrase this so Abby wouldn't get the gist of it, "-had some quality time to ourselves. It was very enjoyable." "Oh, I'm sure it was," Veronica said, smirking at Mark and Amata. "So, was that it?" Amata looked at Mark. "You want to tell them?" "Ok. Veronica, do you remember that woman who runs Vault 21, Sarah Weintraub?" Veronica nodded. "Yeah, I remember her." "I assume that you met her before I met you guys?" Arcade queried.

"Yeah, we met her the first night we came to Vegas. We met you the next day. Well, it turns out that she just happens to be my sister. Well, half-sister, if you want to get technical about it." Both Veronica and Arcade had shocked looks on their faces, while Abby looked curious. There was silence for a few moments, until Abby broke it. "So, she would be my auntie, too, right?" Amata smiled. "Very good, Abby. Yes, she is your aunt, and the next time we go over, she wants to meet you."

"Wait, wait, hang on a second," Veronica said. "How exactly is that possible? You said you guys came from DC." "Which is one-hundred percent true, Veronica. Both Amata and myself were born in Washington, DC. It turns out that my dad, however, was not. According to what Sarah told me, he worked for the Followers at one point, and he and her mother were friends. Some of the Followers were heading east, so the day before they left, the two of them had a bit of a, um, _fun night,_ if you will." "Why was it fun?" Abby asked. "Did they play games?" "Oh yeah, Abby they played some games, alright," Veronica said, attempting to hold in her laughter.

"Quiet, Veronica," Amata said. "So," Arcade asked, "how exactly did you find this out?" "Completely by accident. We saw a picture in her room of my dad and her mother that was taken about twenty-five years ago or so. We questioned Sarah about it, and she told us what we just told you. Amata even noticed that our facial structures were similar, further lending credence to the story." "She's a very nice woman, and she has a brother named Sheldon, who goes by the name Michael Angelo and works in the building next door to the Vault. She even gave us dinner on the house, and upon my insistence, she and Mark shared a dance," Amata said.

"Hang on, can we back up for a minute?" Veronica asked. "You said that Sarah told you that all of that stuff. Didn't your dad tell you any of that?" Mark cursed himself internally for that slip of the tongue. He rubbed his temple before he explained. "There were mitigating factors that prevented me from learning about that information." "Such as?" Veronica queried. Mark shook his head. "Nothing that I feel like talking about right now."

He then stood up and took Abby from Amata. "Come on, Abby, I'll make you some breakfast. How do eggs sound?" "Eggs sound yummy. Can I help you make them, daddy?" she asked excitedly. Mark smiled. "Sure, sweetheart. Come on, let's go make some yummy-in-the-tummy eggs." Mark hoisted her up so she was sitting on his shoulders. She giggled as they exited the room, Mark having to crouch down slightly so Abby didn't hit her head.

Amata watched the two of them, a beaming smile on her face, a few tears in her eyes. She knew that Mark would make a great father, and she was right. The two of them had developed a strong bond in such a short time. She looked at them, and compared that to her relationship with her own father. Even though Mark had responsibilities, he still made time to have fun, with her and Abby. Her own dad, she mused, probably wouldn't know fun if it bit him in the ass. Sure, he played with her occasionally, but most of the time she had with him was him grooming her to take over as Overseer one day. Yes, she liked spending time with him, but she couldn't help but feel that he enjoyed being the Overseer more than being her father.

Amata was broken out of her reverie when she realized that Arcade and Veronica were staring at her. "Sorry, did one of you say something?" "Yeah," Veronica said, "I assume you know what those "mitigating factors" are?" "Yes, I know exactly what they are, and no, I will not betray his confidences and reveal them. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I have some things to do, so I'm going to need both of you to, uh, get out," Amata said as she stood up and walked over near the door. Once Veronica and Arcade both left, she shut the door.

(1 hour later)

Boone and Cass both eventually woke up, Mark having ED-E blast his marching music to do so. Everyone but the two of them found it funny, with Cass threatening to scrap ED-E for parts. Once everyone was in the kitchen, he informed Boone, Cass, and Christine about Sarah Weintraub being his half-sister, although he would just be calling her his sister. "What does that mean, how can ya have half of a sister?" Cass asked. "It means that they share a common parent, Cass," Veronica explained. "In this case it was his father." "Thank you, Veronica. Oh, and we need to talk later about something that I need your help with." She nodded.

He then turned his attention to the entire group. "Ok. There are some things that need to get done today that have been put off far longer than they should have been. I need to go to McCarran to meet with Colonel Hsu and then head over to the Crimson Caravan compound to deal with them eliminating caravans, more specifically, Cassidy Caravans." "What's that about?" Christine asked. "Oh, right, sorry, you weren't here for that. I'll explain later," Mark said. "Amata was also in the process of taking care of something for the King when she found Abby, so that needs to get done as well."

He looked around the room. "I know that ED-E and Cass were with Amata when she was working on that, and technically, I could handle the situation with McLafferty myself, but I think that we all need to go out, and I mean _everyone._ Before any of you ask, I will explain. The fact of the matter is that we are a team, and as such, we need to watch each other's backs with the numerous threats that exist, the Legion being one example. And I also think that Abby could use some fresh air." There was also another reason, but he wasn't ready to reveal that yet.

"So, here's what I'm thinking. I would like Boone and Arcade to come with me to McCarran. Amata, I would like Cass and Christine to go with you." "And what will I be doing, oh captain, my captain?" Veronica asked. "I was getting to that, Veronica. And I wasn't aware you know anything by Walt Whitman. You, Abby, and ED-E will be staying at the King's HQ, assuming the King gives us permission to do so." "And what if he doesn't?" Arcade asked. "Well, then, I'll have Amata and Abby give him puppy-dog eyes. Under that combined power, he doesn't stand a chance." He heard Abby giggle, so he leaned over and gave her a kiss.

"Does anyone have any questions about the groupings?" Christine spoke. "Is there any particular reason that the group I'm in is all women, and yours is all men?" "Yes, there is, but it has nothing to do with you being a woman. I am not sexist in any way, shape, or form. It is because Cass was originally with Amata when they were first doing what the King asked them to do. I would like you to go with them as added protection, and because we are going to an NCR base. You've settled your issues with Boone, but you may still have lingering issues with the NCR as a whole, and while I'm sure that you could control yourself, I'd rather not risk it on a base full of NCR soldiers." She nodded, her curiosity having been sated.

"Mark," Amata said, "I think you should just explain your reasoning as a whole." Mark nodded. "Ok. I'd like Boone to come with me because he is an NCR soldier, and would likely feel more comfortable there. As for Arcade, well, I just enjoy his company." "Thank you, Mark, I enjoy yours as well," Arcade said. "You're welcome, Arcade. Onto the final group. Obviously, Abby is too young to go "into the field," so to speak." Abby huffed at that statement.

"ED-E, because he and Abby basically go everywhere together anyway. And Veronica, you have a pip-boy, so that way we have a pip-boy with each group in case something pops up. And I figured that if I asked for a volunteer to stay with Abby, you would be the first one to volunteer anyway. Right Veronica?" Everyone looked at her. She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mark, you're right, but you don't have to be so smug about it." "Wonderful. Let's leave in, say, an hour. Anyone have any problems with that?" He got no objections.

A little over an hour later, everyone was gathered at the gate that separated Freeside from the Strip. Mark had them hold so he could talk to Abby. He took off his helmet and crouched down to get on the young girl's eye level. "Ok, Abby, do you remember what your mom and I told you earlier?" She nodded. "I will hold Auntie Ronnie's hand, and the rest of you will form a circle around us. I am to follow any directions given to me by any of you. If there is an attack, Auntie Ronne will take me and hide if necessary. If Auntie Ronnie can't, I will go to the nearest one of you. If none of you are able, I will run to the King's headquarters or back to the Strip, whichever is closer, with ED-E as my guard. If I go back to the Strip, I am to go to Vault 21 and find Sarah Weintraub."

Mark nodded and smiled. "Very good, sweetheart. I don't expect anything to happen, but it's always nice to have a plan in case something does." Abby looked nervously at the gate. Mark sensed that she was a bit apprehensive about going back into Freeside. Mark put a hand on her shoulder. "Abby, I know that the last time that you went into Freeside, you had just lost your parents, and you were all alone, and scared. Well, you're not alone this time. We're all here for you." Abby looked at the rest of the group, who were all giving her reassuring smiles. She looked back at Mark, and gave Mark a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, daddy. I think I'm ready." Mark kissed her. "Ok then."

They arrived at the King's HQ without incident, where the King did allow Veronica, Abby, and ED-E to stay. Amata explained why she had yet to complete the task the he had given her. He waved it off, saying that it was no problem. Once they left, Mark announced that he and Amata needed to stop at the Old Mormon Fort to speak with Julie Farkas, before the two groups went their separate ways. Christine, Boone, and Cass elected to wait at the gate, while Arcade, Amata, and Mark went in search of Julie, finding her in her office. She was sitting at her desk, looking over some papers when she saw them in the doorway.

"Mark, Amata, Arcade, it's nice to see all of you. How are you doing? For that matter, how is that girl, um, Abigail, how is she doing?" "We're fine, and she's fine, Julie, thank you for asking," Mark said. "We actually wanted to talk to you about her, if you have a few moments to spare." "Of course. Please, have a seat." There only being two other seats, Mark and Amata sat down while Arcade stood behind them. "Ok," Julie said, "so, how can I help you?" "Julie," Amata said, "did you ever know a woman by the name "Hannah Knight?"" Julie smiled and stared off in the distance. "Yeah, I knew her. Haven't seen her in ages, though." She looked back at them.

"Why are you asking about her? Do you know her?" "Uh, sort of. Do you remember what she looked like?" Julie thought. "Interestingly enough, I do, even though it has been years since I've seen her. She had long blonde hair and these vibrant green eyes. I'm still confused on how this relates to the young girl that I treated a week ago, though." "Julie," Mark said, "do you remember what Abigail looks like?" "Yeah. She had blonde hair and…green eyes…" She trailed off and leaned back in her chair, running a hand over her face. "That was Hannah's daughter, wasn't it?"

She got three nods in affirmation. A look of frustration crossed Julie's face as she banged her fist on her desk. "I should've realized it. I should've fucking realized it." "Julie," Arcade said, "it was eight years ago. A lot of things have happened since then. Besides, you probably weren't even aware that she had a daughter." Julie sighed. "I know, Arcade, but still, she was a good friend, and I feel like an idiot for not recognizing how similar she looks to her mother."

It was then something dawned on her. "Amata, you said that her parents were dead, right? So that must mean…" Amata nodded somberly. "Yeah, Julie. I'm sorry." Julie began to tear up a bit. "How?" she asked. Mark gave Julie a brief synopsis of what Abby told them. "Oh, that poor girl. Sometimes life can be so cruel." She shook her head. "Julie," Mark said, "we were actually hoping that you could tell us more about Hannah. Abby told us a bit, but she was in a bit of an emotional state, and we didn't want to press."

"Of course. She was a lovely woman. Intelligent as they come, and had a heart of gold. She came in here one day and asked if there was anything that she could do to help us out. We found that we could put her skills to good use by having her talk with the patients, you know, to take their minds off their various ailments. She was quite good at it, too. She became good friends with the Kings, the other doctors like myself, and a few of the locals as well. A few of the guys hit on her, but she refused their advances, some with force if necessary."

"A while had passed, and then she had met Chris. I don't ever remember her being happier. It was like she had a permanent smile on her face. She told me that she thought that she had found her soulmate, the one person who she would be with for the rest of her life. Chris came in to see her a few times, and he was an extremely nice guy. You could see how much he cared for her just by how he looked at her. The King officiated the ceremony when they got married. They had the ceremony here. A little while later, she said that she was resigning to go on the road with Chris. Everyone was sad to see her go, but we wished her the best of luck."

She took off a necklace that she was wearing. It was a silver chain necklace with a crescent moon pendant. "She was always fascinated by the stars," Julie said as she stared at the pendant. "Sometimes I would find her out in the courtyard at night, just looking at the night sky. She said that the stars gave her a sense of peace, that in a world that changes constantly, the stars would always be there."

She returned her gaze to the group. "She gave this to me before she left. Called it her 'lucky necklace.' I don't remember exactly what she said when I asked why she was giving it to me, but it was something to the effect of that she just had a feeling that it was supposed to stay with me, and then that I would pass it on to someone else when the time came."

"Looking back over the years, I could never quite figure out what she meant by 'when the time came,' but now I do." She put it on the desk in front of Amata. "Please give this to Abigail. I honestly never felt like it truly belonged to me in the first place. I only believed myself to be its caretaker. The fact that it is going where it rightfully belongs after all this time is an odd twist of fate." Amata picked it up and carefully put it in her satchel. "Thank you, Julie," she said, tearing up a bit. "I'm sure that Abby will be thrilled to have it."

Mark chuckled. The other three looked at him in confusion. "Sorry, it's just…Abby's middle name makes a bit more sense now." "What is her middle name?" Julie asked. "It's 'Celeste,' Amata answered. "Yeah," Mark said. "Celeste…Celestial. It seemed a bit of a weird middle name, but now, after hearing Hannah's fascination with the stars, I understand where it came from." Mark then looked at his pip-boy. "Guys, we should get going. The others are waiting on us." Arcade and Amata agreed, so they all said goodbye to Julie. Once Julie heard the door open and close below her, she began to cry in earnest, mourning the passing of a woman with a kind heart from a world that needed more like her.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**


	54. Chapter 54: For The Republic

**Author's Note: I apologize for the slight delay in getting this chapter out. Life got in the way, plus I decided to rewrite a couple sections of this chapter because I wasn't happy with them. Also, this story now has over 40,000 views. I would like to thank everyone for your continued support. With that being said, enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**

After meeting with the others back at the gate, and telling them what they had learned, they split into their assigned groups and went their separate ways. Amata, Christine, and Cass were making their way over to where Major Kieran was. As they came upon where they had found Abby, Amata stopped. The others stopped as well. "'Mata, what's goin' on?" Cass asked. Amata pointed at the building. "This building look familiar, Cass?" Cass looked at, and after a few moments, grinned. "Yeah, it sure does. What's it been? A week?" Amata nodded.

Christine looked at both of them questioningly. "Someone wanna fill me in?" she asked. "Sorry, Christine," Amata said. "This is actually where we found Abby a week ago." Amata walked over and looked inside. There was no one in there this time. She didn't think there would be, but for some reason, she had to look, just to make sure. She briefly flashed back to when she first laid eyes on Abby. Cass came up behind Amata and put a hand on her shoulder. "Ya okay, 'Mata?"

Amata nodded. "Yeah, I- I was just thinking. I actually need to thank you, Cass." "Fer what?" Cass asked, a look of confusion gracing her features. "If you hadn't convinced me to go see the King that day, we never would have found Abby. I mean, if we were doing this for the first time right now, maybe we would've still found her, but who knows what kind of condition she would've been in, or if she would even be alive."

"Ya don't have ta thank me, 'Mata. That's what friends are fer. I'm sure that ya would do tha same fer me. 'Sides, tha rugrat's growin' on me. Makin' me feel all protective an' all that kinda stuff." There was a brief period of silence as the two of them reflected over the past week. "C'mon," Cass said, "we should get goin'. Christine's waitin' fer us." Amata took one last look in the building, and then followed Cass back over to where Christine was, and they were back on their way.

A short while later, they came upon a small building whose entrance was guarded by two NCR troopers, one Caucasian and one of African-American descent. The Caucasian man came up to them as they approached, his service rifle aimed at them. "Stop right there. What is your business here?" Amata stepped forward. "We're here to speak with Major Elizabeth Kieran." The man looked over the group for a few seconds. "I can only let you in if you know the password." "The password is 'hope,'" Amata said. She had gotten the password from Julie the first time they had attempted this mission.

The man moved out of their way. "Correct. You may enter." "Thank you," Amata said as they entered the building. It was dimly lit, with an open area, a few chairs along the wall, and a counter. There were two people handing out food from behind the counter, one man and one woman. There were people wearing rags lining up to get food, while others either sat down or stood against the wall and ate. Amata was saddened by the whole scene. She was extremely grateful that she had grown up in a place that protected her from the horrors of the world, and now she was living with her husband and friends in a luxurious hotel where she always had food and a place to sleep.

They walked along the wall to the area behind the counter, and approached the woman, who was handing out food wrapped in what looked like old newspaper. "Excuse me, are you Major Kieran?" Amata asked. She turned to look at them. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, with brown hair that reached about halfway down her neck, and light brown eyes. She was wearing a black coat and pants with red trim, with an ammo bandolier across her chest. "Yes I am. How can I help you?"

"Hi, my name is Amata, and these are my friends Christine and Cass. Can we talk in private?" "About what, exactly? And how did you get the password to get in here? You three don't exactly look like you're in need," she said curtly. Amata sighed. "We got the password from Julie Farkas. Now, can we please talk in private? It's important." Major Kieran's face softened at the mention of Julie's name. "Well, Julie doesn't just give out that password to anyone, so she must trust you. Hang on." She looked over her shoulder. "Jerry, I'm gonna be a minute." The man nodded, and went back to serving the food. "We can talk in the back," she said pointing to the doorway behind them.

She led them into a small back area with some food on a metal shelf. "Ok," Major Kieran said, "what do you need to speak with me about?" Amata straightened her posture, and spoke in an official manner that she had cultivated from dealing with her father for years. "We are here on behalf of the King, who wishes to negotiate a treaty regarding cessation of hostilities between the Kings and the NCR, as well as providing a framework for mutual aid and protection."

Major Kieran scoffed, and her facial features darkened. "Oh, so _now_ he wants to talk? Well, he already had his chance, so you can go back to him and tell him that I said to stuff it." Amata noticed the venom in her voice, and by the looks of Christine and Cass, they did too. Amata mentally went through the conversations she had had with the King. He had never mentioned any actual attempts to negotiate with the NCR. Then again, the way that Major Kieran was talking, maybe there had been some type of miscommunication.

"Uh, Major, could you elaborate on that, please? The King did not mention to us about any prior attempts to negotiate with the NCR." The Major scoffed again. "Like you don't already know." "Yeah," Christine said, "we actually don't, so if you could knock it off with your fucking attitude and just goddamn explain to us what happened, we'd appreciate it." Major Kieran was a bit taken aback by Christine's words. She surveyed the room, and got the feeling that they were telling the truth. Now that she thought about it, she never remembered hearing about any members of the Kings being women.

"Alright. About a month ago, we sent an envoy to the King in the hopes that we could coordinate relief efforts in the area." "Well," Amata said, "from what I know of the King, he would've welcomed that, so something else must have happened." "Yeah, you could say that. Our envoy was brutally beaten, and only barely survived. My superiors ordered the relief effort scrapped. I managed to lobby them to let me carry it out anyway, but with greatly reduced support." She ran a hand over her face. "I want to help Freeside; truly I do, but right now I only have the supplies to hand out food to NCR citizens, which is why we require a password to get in here. I made Julie swear to not give out that password to anyone who wasn't an NCR citizen in need." "Well," Cass said, "I am an NCR citizen, so technically, she kind of kept her promise." "And we promise that we won't share the password. Right?" Amata stated, looking at Cass and Christine. They both nodded.

"Thank you. I appreciate that," Major Kieran said. "The question now is, where do we go from here? If it wasn't the King, as you believe, then who ordered the attack?" Amata thought for a few moments, before she felt a tap on her shoulder. Amata looked over and saw that it was Cass. "Pacer," was all she said. That was when things clicked in Amata's head. Pacer had probably intercepted the envoy before they could get to the King, making the King believe that the NCR had never made contact.

"Major, I believe that I know what happened. I had a couple of run-ins with a particularly rude member of the Kings a while back, a guy who calls himself Pacer. He was not particularly fond of having the NCR in Freeside. He used to be the King's second-in-command. He was probably the one who ordered the attack on your envoy." "Used to be?" the Major queried. Amata smirked. "Yes, used to be. The second run-in I had with him, he attacked me, and well, long story short, he was summarily dismissed from the Kings, so I doubt he will be a problem anymore."

"if you would like, Major, I have a way for you to speak with the King right now, and he can confirm what I just said." "How?" Major Kieran asked. Amata held up her left arm, giving the Major a good look at her pip-boy. "I was not aware that pip-boys were capable of that type of communication, or that the King had one, for that matter." "Well," Amata said, "normally they don't, and no, he doesn't. This particular one, along with a couple of others, have been modified."

"One of my friends has one, and she is at the King's HQ. I can contact her and have her get the King so you can speak with him directly and avoid any miscommunication." Major Kieran thought it over, and then nodded. "Do it." Amata then called Veronica. "Veronica, you there?" A couple seconds later, Veronica answered. "Hey Amata. What's going on?" "Not much. How's Abby?" "Oh, she's having a blast. She and ED-E are chasing the King's dog around and- Abby! Don't pull on that poor dog's tail!" There was silence for a moment before Veronica came back on.

"Sorry, Amata. So, uh, did you need something?" "Yeah, I need to speak with the King. Could you track him down for me?" "Yeah, I think he's…oh, there he is." Her voice sounded a bit distant as she shouted. "Hey King! I need you over here!" "Yeah, King," Veronica said a few seconds later, "Amata needs to talk to you…yeah, just talk into it." The King's voice then came over. "Um, hello?"

"Hey, King. It's Amata. Question for you. Were you aware that about a month ago, the NCR sent an envoy to negotiate with you?" "Um…no, I was never informed about or spoke to any envoy." Amata nodded. "That's what I thought. King, I'm here with Major Elizabeth Kieran, who oversees the distribution of supplies to NCR citizens in Freeside. She says that their envoy was attacked by some Kings, and that he barely survived the ordeal." They heard the King sigh. "Major Kieran, I am truly sorry that one of your people was injured. I swear that I did not have any knowledge of or participate in any such attack. I want peace in Freeside, but apparently someone else had different ideas."

"Thank you, King, for your apology," Major Kieran said. "I am inclined to believe you, based on what I've been told." "King," Amata said, "we believe that it was Pacer who likely ordered and led the assault." They then heard a banging sound, followed by the shattering of glass. "Damn him," the King growled. "He was a good guy at one point. I don't know what the hell happened to him. Maybe I was just blinded because he was my friend. I swear, if he wasn't already banished from Freeside, I'd kick his ass out myself."

He sighed. "Major, as you may have already been told, I would like to negotiate a treaty between the Kings and the NCR, so that we all may benefit. I will, as a sign of good faith, order my boys to stop attacking any NCR personnel." "That is appreciated, King. However, my superiors over at McCarran are likely still a bit wary of negotiating, given our respective organization's histories with one another." Amata grinned as an idea popped into her head. "Major," she said, "what if, say, the Courier were to speak with your superiors and convince them that negotiating with the Kings would be in everyone's best interests?"

Major Kieran raised an eyebrow. "Do you _know_ the Courier?" "Yes, I know him. We are quite close," Amata said. "Yeah, _real close,_ so close that one might say ya know him intimately _,"_ Cass said, laughing and bumping Amata's shoulder with her own. At the confused look the Major was giving them, Amata expanded upon that statement. "He's my husband, Major." "Seriously?" Amata chuckled. "Yes, Major, I am serious. He really is my husband, and his name is Mark, just so you're aware. So, do you think that would work?"

Major Kieran thought about it. She, like most NCR personnel in the Mojave, had been hearing tales of the Courier's exploits. What she was most impressed by was the rumor that he gave a dressing-down to General Oliver. She had met Oliver a couple of times, and didn't really care for him. She found him to be an arrogant ass. Not that she would say that out loud, of course. She really did want to help the citizens of Freeside. That was why she had joined the Supply Corps in the first place. She liked helping people. A good word from the Courier might just be the ticket to getting the supplies that she needed.

Major Kieran nodded. "That just might do the trick, and the sooner he could get it done, the better. But a problem that I foresee, should that work, is where these negotiations would take place. Someplace close by that is considered neutral would be best, but nothing comes to mind." There was silence as everyone realized that she had a point. "Well," the King said, "we don't have to figure it out right now. Just get the permission, and then we can go from there. Amata, I assume that you will speak to Mark?"

"Of course, King. He was headed to McCarran anyway, and he should be there, or close to it by now." "Excellent," the King said. "I look forward to these negotiations to help make Freeside a better place for all. If there is nothing else, I need to go have a chat with my boys." "I have nothing else, King," Major Kieran said. "Neither do I, King," Amata stated. "Very well then. I bid you a good day, Major. Amata, I will see you shortly." Veronica came back on. "Need anything else, Amata?" "No, that's all, Veronica. Tell Abby we'll be back in a little while." "Will do. Talk to you later." The transmission cut out.

Amata looked at Major Kieran. "Thank you for your time, Major. We'll let you get back to work now. We'll see ourselves out. Have a good day." "Good day to you three as well." Amata followed Christine and Cass out of the room. Major Kieran stood there for a few moments, and then chuckled. "I like her," she said quietly before she walked back out to the main area to continue serving food.

(Same time, Camp McCarran)

Except for a couple of Fiends, their trip to McCarran was uneventful. They had just walked in the main gate, and Mark had holstered his rifle and taken off his helmet. That was when Amata called Mark on his pip-boy. "Hey, Mark, you got a second?" Mark stopped walking, as did Arcade and Boone. He put his helmet down, and checked the area around him, noting that there were no NCR soldiers within earshot. "Yeah, go ahead babe." Amata then explained what had happened with Major Kieran and the King.

"So, if you could just talk to Colonel Hsu about this while you're there, that would be great." "No problem, babe. I'll take care of it." "Thank you, Mark. We're heading back to the King's HQ, and then we're gonna head back to the 38." Mark's demeanor suddenly changed. "Amata, no. I need you to stay at the King's HQ until we get back." "Why? Does this have anything to do with what House told you?" Mark looked around again. "Amata, I swear, I will explain everything, but for right now I need you to trust me, and stay there." There was silence. "Amata?"

"Alright, Mark, we'll stay there, and I will be holding you to that promise. There will be no weaseling out of it, you hear me?" "I hear you, babe. I'll see you when I get back. I love you." "I love you too, Mark. Please be careful." "We will babe, we will." Mark cut off the transmission. He then picked up his helmet, and then looked at Boone and Arcade. "Let's go, guys."

They walked inside the main terminal building and made their way to Colonel Hsu's office. He was not in his office, so they asked a trooper that was behind the sandbag wall that was near the doors. "Excuse me," Mark said, "do you happen to know where Colonel Hsu is? He's expecting me." The trooper looked at Mark, and then at the group, noting Boone's 1st Recon beret.

"He's down in the supply shack." Mark waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't, so Mark looked at Boone. "Do you know where that is, Boone?" Boone nodded. "Ok then, we'll follow you." They made their way up the escalator and through the doors to the concourse. The hallway that led to the main concourse was dimly lit, with rows of chairs and old vending machines lining the wall. They were walking down to the concourse when Mark saw a female NCR trooper sitting in one of the seats, head in their hands. Mark could make out muffled sobbing.

Mark initially wanted to leave her be, but sighed when he realized that his chivalrous side wouldn't allow him to. He didn't know if that was a blessing or a curse. Likely a bit of both. He motioned for Arcade and Boone to stop, and then got down to one knee in front of the woman. "Excuse me, are you alright?" Mark asked in a gentle voice. The woman looked up. She looked to be of Hispanic descent, in her mid-thirties, with short brown hair and brown eyes. The aforementioned eyes were red from crying.

"Did- did the Colonel send you? I…I was hoping that he changed his mind…" "Changed his mind about what?" Mark asked. "Oh, I guess he didn't send you, then. N-never mind. I'll be okay." She looked down at the ground. Mark put a hand on her leg, causing her to look back at him. "Hey," Mark said, "tell me what's wrong. I'm going to see the Colonel right now. Maybe I can help you out." She looked at him closely, studying his face. She saw the scar on the left side of his head, and other smaller, less noticeable ones.

Based on that, combined with the heavy-duty armor he was wearing and all of the weapons that he was carrying led her to believe that he had seen and was heavily involved in war. It was then she looked into his eyes. Soft, caring blue eyes that sharply contrasted against the roughness of the rest of his face. She got the feeling that she could trust him. She nodded.

"Good," Mark said. "Before you tell me what's wrong, I believe that we should know your name." "Right, um, my name is Morales, uh, Private Christina Morales." "Thank you, Private. My name is Mark Franklin, and my compatriots are Arcade Gannon," he said, thumbing over his right shoulder at Arcade, "and Craig Boone." Morales looked at Boone, and saw his beret. "1st Recon?" she asked. Boone nodded.

"Ok," Mark said, "now that introductions are over, why don't you tell us what's going on." She took a deep breath. "It's…it's my husband. His name's Esteban Morales. He's a Ranger, one of the best, and he…" a mixed look of anger and sadness came across her face, "…he got murdered by a pack Fiends. Goddamn savages laid his body out to rot. The brass won't say it to me straight, but they mean to leave Esteban out there. Hsu keeps giving me bullshit excuses, if you'll pardon my language."

Mark frowned. "So, they can't send a few people to retrieve the body?" he asked. "The problem, they say, is that the Fiends are guarding it, waiting to lure more soldiers into an ambush. "Can't afford to lose any more men to retrieve a body," they said. Apparently, the fact that he's a Ranger means nothing to them." She scoffed. "If you can get Hsu to send some men, more power to you, but I wouldn't hold your breath." She put her head back in her hands. Mark stood back up and looked at his friends. "Guys, we need to conference." He led them a little further down the hallway. Private Morales lifted her head slightly and watched them. She couldn't hear anything, as they were whispering. About a minute later, they came back over, and Mark kneeled back down.

"Private Morales, we won't be talking to Colonel Hsu about retrieving your husband's body." She frowned. She should've realized it. She got her hopes up, and then he comes and dashes them. "Because, Private, we will be retrieving the body ourselves." She was shocked and elated. "Wh-why? You barely know me. Why would you put yourselves at risk like that?" Mark grinned. "I have a thing for helping people. Well, that, and I am the Courier. It is my job to deliver things, whether that be packages, justice, or the body of her husband to a grieving widow."

Her mouth gaped at the fact that she was talking to the Courier. She, like everyone else on base, had heard rumors of his exploits. He was becoming something of a legend. "If it is alright with you, Private, my friend Arcade here will stay with you. He's read a few books on how to deal with grief." She was still a bit shocked, so she just nodded. "Ok. Now, we, um, we need to know where your husband's body is." She came back to her senses. "Right. His body, it's near the old REPCONN building. It's a bit southwest of here." Mark checked his pip-boy. It would be a little over an hour's walk.

"Ok. Hang tight, Private. We'll be back, and you have my word that your husband will be with us." He put on his helmet, grabbed his bag, and nodded to Boone, who responded in kind. Arcade sat down next to Private Morales as they both watched Mark and Boone head back into the main terminal. "Do- do you really think that they can get Esteban's body back?" Arcade leaned back in his seat. "If I had to pick two people to do it, I would pick those two. Boone, he's 1st Recon. Their skills are well-known."

"Mark, well, he's…he's unique. He is a warrior, but I believe that he would only fight to protect innocents, or the people that he cares for. He has a penchant for helping those in need, and to right perceived wrongs, such as your situation. You could call it being noble, chivalrous, or maybe having a bit of a messiah complex. Whatever you call it, when he puts his mind to something, it usually gets done, so if he says that he will bring back Esteban's body, then, well, I believe him." They were silent for a few moments, before Arcade spoke again. "So, tell me about Esteban."

(One hour later)

Mark had called Amata to let her know what he was doing. She wasn't thrilled that he was taking a detour, but she understood once he explained why he was taking said detour. He and Boone were crouched behind a group of rocks about two-hundred yards from the REPCONN facility. Using his binoculars, Mark did a survey of the area. There were six Fiends standing on top of a u-shaped building across from the main building. There was a bit of an incline from where they were, so they were unable to see Ranger Morales' body, but given that the Fiends were there, the body was likely there as well.

"Does this kind of thing happen often, the NCR just leaving the bodies of their fallen soldiers?" Mark asked Boone as he handed the binoculars to him. "It's rare, but it does happen. Usually they try to bring the body back, even if they have to go back for it. In this case, they probably deemed that there was an ongoing threat in the area, making it too big a risk to recover it." He handed the binoculars back to Mark, who put them back in his bag. "You don't sound like you agree, though," Mark said as he took out his sniper rifle and adjusted it.

"No, I don't. We walked here with no resistance, and the only threats that I see are those fiends. This just seems like bureaucratic red tape." Mark nodded. "Isn't that the truth," Mark said as he peered over the rocks. "This seems like something 1st Recon or the Veteran Rangers should have been able to handle easily. There are multiple places surrounding the building that can be used for cover. But, like you said, we're dealing with bureaucrats. You ready?" Boone nodded as he readied his own rifle. "Yeah, let's do this."

Less than five minutes later, all Fiends were dead, presumably. Four of their number had already been killed before they realized where the shots were coming from, but by then it was already too late to mount any type of meaningful counterattack. Mark and Boone were now approaching the area slowly, checking for any additional threats. Boone spotted a couple of fragmentation mines, and shot them before they got anywhere close to them. When they got the parking lot, they found the body of a man dressed in NCR garb, most likely the Ranger they were here to retrieve.

Mark approached the body. The man, like his wife, was of Hispanic descent. He had short, sandy-brown hair, and grey eyes that were open in a state of disbelief. Before doing anything else, Mark gently closed the man's eyes. Mark then examined him while Boone played lookout. He appeared to have been shot twice in the neck, and had subsequently bled out. Boone came over and took off his beret in a show of respect to his fallen comrade. The two of them stood there in a moment of silence.

Mark then sighed. "Alright. Let's get him up so we can bring him home." Mark holstered his assault rifle on his back and went to pick up the body, but Boone stopped him. "Hold up. Don't move it yet. Fiends like to booby-trap the bodies as a surprise for those that come to try and collect them." Boone went down to his knees and lifted the body up slightly. "Yeah, there's definitely a mine under there."

Mark thought for a few moments. "Alright. I'm going to pick up the body and move away quickly. You might want to back up to a safe distance." Boone nodded, and Mark handed his bag to him. Mark flexed his fingers and looked at the body. He had one shot to do this right. Deciding to stop thinking and just getting it over with, he reached down, scooped up the body, and quickly ran towards Boone.

The mine detonated, showering the area with small pieces of gravel. They were unharmed, however, and that was what mattered. He put the body back down, collected his bag from Boone, and slung it over his left shoulder. He then picked the body back up, hefted it over his right shoulder, and took out his pistol. "Ready?" Boone nodded. "Okay." He then looked at the body. "Let's move out, Ranger. Your wife is waiting for you."

An hour later, they came upon the gate to Camp McCarran. He stopped to speak with the guards. "One of you have a radio?" The trooper on his left nodded. "Radio ahead. I need Colonel Hsu and Private Christina Morales to meet us in the main terminal. I am bringing back the body of Private Morales' husband." The trooper looked at the body and nodded, going for his radio while the other trooper lifted the gate.

As Mark and Boone made their way to the terminal, some of the troopers that were training in the repurposed parking lot stared at them and started whispering, while others rendered a salute. Neither Mark nor Boone noticed this, both men focused on finishing the mission. Boone held the door open, allowing Mark to enter. He saw Private Morales standing a little way away straight ahead of him, standing next to Arcade. When she saw the body, she began to cry in earnest. Arcade pulled her into a hug to comfort her, and she buried her face in Arcade's jacket.

He looked around and saw Colonel Hsu standing to his left, next to a woman that Mark was unfamiliar with, although she appeared to be an officer. Mark walked over to him. "Colonel Hsu, I have returned with the body of Ranger Esteban Morales. I hereby turn the body over to you so that he may have a proper burial in accordance with the customs and traditions of the New California Republic."

"Mr. Franklin," the Colonel said, "on behalf of the New California Republic, we thank you for returning the body of Ranger Esteban Morales to us. We appreciate your deed, and we will ensure that the body is treated with the proper respect that is afforded to all who die in service of the NCR." Colonel Hsu motioned for two troopers to come over and relieve Mark of the body. It was then that Mark took off his helmet.

"Colonel, I think it would be wise to allow Private Morales as much time as she needs to grieve over the body before you send it back for burial." He nodded. "Of course. She will be give the proper amount of time to grieve. While you are here, I would like to introduce you to Lieutenant Carrie Boyd, who is the CO of the military police here at McCarran. Lieutenant Boyd, this is Mark Franklin, otherwise known as the Courier, who is also House's right-hand man." Lieutenant Boyd looked to be in her late twenties, with short, light brown hair and dark brown eyes.

Mark extended a hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant." Lieutenant Boyd looked him over, appearing to be sizing him up. After a couple of moments, she extended her hand and shook Mark's. "Pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Franklin. I would also like to thank you for returning Ranger Morales' body to us." "You are welcome, Lieutenant, but I did not do it alone. My friend, former 1st Recon member Craig Boone also assisted me." She looked at Boone. "Yes, I remember you. Thank you for your assistance, soldier." Boone nodded. "I would also like to point out the third member of my team, Mr. Arcade Gannon, a Followers doctor who is currently comforting Private Morales." Everyone looked at Arcade, and Mark gave him a small wave, which he returned with the hand that wasn't wrapped around the sobbing Private.

"Now, that brings me to something that I've been pondering. Maybe one of you can explain to me how is it that the two of us," he said, referring to himself and Boone, "were able to recover the body with little to no trouble, while you have a plethora of soldiers under your command, and for some unknown reason, you were unable send a few of them to recover the body."

"Listen," Lieutenant Boyd said in an annoyed tone, "you may be some bigshot, but that does not mean you can tell us how to run our operations, or that you can just come in here demanding answers." If she was trying to be intimidating, it had no effect on Mark, who spoke calmly. "I am not telling you how to run your operations, nor did I demand anything, Lieutenant. It was a simple inquiry into how the New California Republic handles its business with regards to its fallen soldiers. I believe that you are attempting to search for a deeper meaning where there is none."

"If you must know, I grew up near Washington, DC, and have only come to the area within the past six months. I am still learning about everything that goes on in the Mojave, including the various factions that operate in the area, whether it be the Fiends, the Legion, or the NCR. "Know thy enemy," I believe the phrase is." "Are you saying that the NCR is your enemy?" Boyd questioned. "Again, Lieutenant, you are attempting to search for a deeper meaning where none exists. I never said that. It is simply a way that I like to approach life."

Colonel Hsu then spoke. "Ok, Lieutenant, that is enough. Mark, while we would have liked to recover the body, we have certain protocols in place that we need to follow. Also, the fact of the matter is that we are spread thin from our conflict with the Legion, and with conscription, most of our soldiers are not suited to recovering a body from a dangerous area." Mark sighed. "Well, disregarding the fact that that area hardly seemed dangerous at all, why not send 1st Recon? Or the Veteran Rangers? They are supposed to be the best of the best, or so I'm told."

"Well, Mark," the Colonel continued, "the Veteran Rangers are primarily located at Camp Golf and Hoover Dam. As for 1st Recon, once the Fiend leaders were taken care of, the decision was made to move them to Camp Forlorn Hope." Mark looked at the two of them incredulously at that last statement. "You actually have a camp called "Forlorn Hope?"" "Yes," Lieutenant Boyd answered, "it is our primary forward operating base in the eastern part of the Mojave. What of it?"

"Why the hell would you give a camp a name like that? The term "forlorn hope," basically means "to give up hope." Even without knowing what the name means it sounds depressing. Whoever decided on that name is an idiot." "General Oliver decided on that name," Colonel Hsu said. "My point exactly. Call it Camp Hope, or something that doesn't make you want to kill yourself." Mark sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Look, Colonel, the original reason that I came here today was so that the situation with Alice McLafferty could be settled. The note you sent said to come at my earliest convenience. I'm here now. Are you ready?" "Yes. However, I am required to have an escort if I leave the base, so I will go collect them." Mark nodded. "Ok. I need to speak with Private Morales anyway." Mark turned and walked over to Arcade and the Private, who were now sitting down. When she saw Mark, she leapt up and hugged him.

"Thank you so much. I-I don't know how I could ever repay you. Wait, actually, I do. I have caps. They gave me Esteban's back pay. You can have it. I don't even want the damn money." He looked at her. "Private, keep it. It was his, now it's yours. I don't want it, and I don't need it. I did what I did because I wanted to help." She shook her head. "I still don't get it. You helped me when you barely know me. There has to be a deeper reason." Mark pursed his lips and thought. "Uh, Boone, Arcade, could you give us a minute?" Boone nodded and walked away. "Uh, sure," Arcade said, "I'll just go look at that thing, uh, over there. Yes, that looks interesting." He wandered off, giving the two of them their privacy.

Mark motioned for Private Morales to sit. "You're right. There is a deeper reason as to why I helped you." He paused, sighed, and then continued to speak, not really sure why he was telling her this. "There was a dangerous situation that I was involved in a while ago. There were others there as well, a group of scientists, my dad among them. We were working in a facility on a project. A hostile group had stormed the facility, intent on taking the facility and controlling the project. Instead of willingly handing over control, my dad, who was in charge, locked himself and the leader of the hostile group inside the control room."

"He then sabotaged the control room, killing himself with lethal doses of radiation as a distraction to help myself and the others escape. A while later, I had help in retaking the facility, but my dad's body was nowhere to be found." Mark started to tear up. "To this day, I don't know what happened to his body, and I probably never will know. I can hazard a few guesses, but that's about it. I never got a chance to say a proper goodbye. I had no body to grieve over. I-I helped you because I saw you in the same situation. Grieving, but with no body to grieve over."

"The difference was, you still had a chance. Since the NCR refused to act, which I find extremely shameful, by the way, just leaving one of their own out in the open like that, I took it upon myself, with the aid of my friend, to give you the chance to say a proper goodbye." He looked over at Private Morales. "You know," she said, "you're too good for this rotten town." They both chuckled at that. She sighed. "Esteban was a good man. I think the two of you would've gotten along nicely." "I'm sure we would've."

Mark saw Colonel Hsu coming back. "Private, it was a pleasure to meet you, but I've got other business to attend to." Mark stood up, she did as well. "I-I will never forget what you've done. I hope that someday I can do something to repay you." Mark had a thought. "How about this. You can repay me, by allowing me to call you a friend." She smiled and hugged him again. "It would be an honor to call you a friend." She pulled back. "I hope to see you around," she said as two troopers approached her. "I'm sure I'll be around. Stay strong. You'll get through this."

Mark was approached by Colonel Hsu, with four Veteran Rangers trailing behind him. "Wait," Mark said, "I thought you said that there were no Veteran Rangers here?" "Normally, no, but they've been here on standby for this exact occasion." Mark went to comment on the fact that they could have been used to collect Ranger Morales' body while they waited for him, but decided against it. He could only deal with so much stupidity in one day, and he still had to meet with McLafferty.

"Ok. Do you have what we discussed?" The Colonel held out his hand, and one of the Rangers handed him a folder, who then handed it to Mark. Mark opened it and looked over the papers, before handing it back to the Colonel. "Do you have the evidence?" he asked Mark. "In my bag." "Alright," the Colonel said, "let's move out." They then made their way to the Crimson Caravan compound. The four Rangers surrounded Hsu, two in front, two in back. Mark, Boone, and Arcade trailed behind them. Once they were about three hundred yards from the compound, Colonel Hsu called for everyone to stop.

He addressed the Rangers. "Your orders are to go into the compound and secure the main building. Only McLafferty is to remain. Do not assault anyone unless they attempt to interfere. There will be two of you guarding each door from the outside. Understood?" He received four simultaneous nods. He then looked at Mark. "I assume that you'll be with me. What about the others?" "Boone will be with me as well. Arcade, however, will be heading to meet with some friends of ours."

He nodded. "Very well. Let us be off, gentlemen." A short while later, Arcade broke off from the group and went through the north gate into Freeside. Mark had sent Amata a quick message that Arcade was coming back. They approached the front gate to the compound, and when the guard saw the group, he looked on in shock, not even attempting to stop or question them. When they entered the courtyard, everyone inside stopped what they were doing. As they entered the main building, all activity ceased as well. "Attention everyone," Colonel Hsu said in an authoritative voice, "I need everyone to exit out the back door right now. Any attempt to resist will be viewed as interfering in an NCR investigation, and you will be arrested."

The appearance of and NCR Colonel, what appeared to be five Veteran Rangers, and a man wearing a 1st Recon beret, told everyone in the room that this was serious. As they made their way out, the door to McLafferty's office opened. "What is going on here?" she said, looking around. Mark took a good look at her. She appeared to be in her late fifties or early sixties, with short grey hair, wearing a business suit. She then noticed Colonel Hsu. "Ah, Colonel, it's nice to see you. Perhaps you could explain why this building is now empty besides us?"

"Hello, Alice. I believe that it would be wise for you to step back into your office. We have some things that we need to discuss." "Concerning what?" "Information pertaining to an ongoing investigation. It is of a sensitive nature, hence the need to clear the building." She looked hesitant, but then nodded. "Alright." She went back into her office and shut the door. "You two," Hsu said, addressing the Rangers, "guard the front door, and you two guard the back. "Ready?" he asked Mark. Mark nodded. "Boone, stand guard outside the door, just in case," Mark said. Boone nodded and took his position.

Hsu opened the door and went in, Mark following. Hsu sat down, while Mark put his bag down and stood behind him. McLafferty's eyes flicked up to Mark, before resting on the Colonel. "Ok, Colonel, if whatever this is about is sensitive in nature, then why is he here?" Colonel Hsu decided to just get right to the point. "Look, Alice, I'll be honest. You're in trouble." Mark noticed that her posture stiffened. "For what am I in trouble for, exactly? I can assure you that I've done nothing wrong."

"Yeah, I'm gonna let my friend here tell you, since he brought it to my attention." McLafferty looked at Mark. "You're not a Ranger, are you?" Mark chuckled. "No, Ms. McLafferty, I am not, although I have a friend who said that I could probably pass for one." Mark smirked under his helmet, deciding to be a bit dramatic with his introduction, attempting to incorporate things he learned from listening to Three Dog. He started to walk back and forth behind the Colonel. "I am…the defender of the downtrodden. I am the voice of the voiceless. I am feared by those who prey upon the weak. But you may know me as…the Courier."

McLafferty's eyes widened slightly at this pronouncement. "And you," Mark continued, "Alice McLafferty, have been a naughty, naughty girl." Colonel Hsu stifled a chuckle at that. Mark leaned down, opened his bag, and took out a stack of papers. McLafferty briefly thought about going for the pistol in her desk, but then remembered that she was surrounded by an NCR Colonel, the Courier, and four Veteran Rangers, she thought better of it.

Mark leafed through the papers. "Let's see what we have here…bribery, extortion…oh! murder-for-hire. That one's a doozy." McLafferty shot up from her chair. "You! It was you who broke in here and stole those! Colonel, I want him arrested!" There was silence in the room for a moment before Mark burst out laughing. "And what exactly is so funny?" she asked. "You wanna field that one, Colonel?" Mark asked. McLafferty's eyes went back to Colonel Hsu.

"Yeah, Alice, even if we wanted to, we can't. First of all, compared to what you've done, theft is insignificant. Secondly, he's House's right-hand man. If we imprison him, there could be serious repercussions. So right now, I would advise you to sit down and be quiet, because we are going to offer you a deal." He opened the folder he was holding and took out one of the sheets. He then placed in front of McLafferty. "This has already been approved by President Kimball, and by your superiors."

She looked it over, her face growing redder by the line. "Are you fucking kidding me!? This…this is outrageous! I won't sign it!" The Colonel sighed. "If you refuse to sign, then you will be arrested, all of your assets will be seized and sold off, and any interests you hold in other companies will be seized as well and given to him," thumbing over his shoulder to Mark. She looked at Mark. "What exactly is your interest in this?" "My interest, McLafferty, is that one of those caravans you attacked was owned by a friend. I am simply helping them out, as friends do. You're actually lucky, though. They wanted to come here and blow your head off, before I talked them out of it."

"What is that old saying? Ah, yes. You reap what you sow. You've done bad things and screwed over a lot of people, and now it has come back to bite you on the ass. Make your choice, McLafferty. Either way, you're screwed." There was a tense silence as McLafferty looked between Mark and Colonel Hsu. "Fine," she said, "I'll sign the damn thing." She took a pen and signed four separate copies. "Are we done here?" Colonel Hsu went to speak, but Mark interrupted. "Actually, there is one more thing. I apologize, Colonel. This came up after our initial meeting."

"Ms. McLafferty, are you aware that one of your employees, Christopher Fields, was killed recently?" She thought. "Yes, I did get a report about that. What of it?" "I have taken custody of his daughter, seeing as both him and his wife were killed. There is an outstanding balance owed to him of ninety-five caps. As his daughter is his next of kin, I believe that that money belongs to her." "How do I know you're telling me the truth? How do I know that you don't just want the caps?"

Mark leaned on the desk, staring down McLafferty. Mark was happy to see her with fear in her eyes. "Because, McLafferty, there are far higher amounts of caps that I could've asked for, and the fact that that amount is one of the lowest outstanding payments should be a hint that I don't want them for myself. You're already in enough trouble as it is. Give me the caps, and I will never set one foot in this damn compound again." She looked at Hsu, who nodded. "Fine." She put ninety-five caps in a small bag and handed them to Mark.

"Ok," Colonel Hsu said, "I think we're done here. Alice, there will be a monitor left here to make sure you comply. Send someone to the Followers within one week to see what they need." With that, both Mark and the Colonel left the room and the building. Before they went their separate ways, Mark informed Colonel Hsu about Amata's discussion with the King, and about going lenient on Troike for his assistance in stopping a massacre. After Mark said goodbye to the Colonel, Mark, along with Boone, headed back into Freeside.

He stopped at the Old Mormon Fort to give Julie the good news. Boone waited by the entrance while he sought out Julie. He found her coming out of the tower that held her office. "Mark! Back again so soon? Are you injured?" "No Julie, I'm fine. I'm actually here to tell you that I solved your supply issue." Mark handed her a copy of the agreement. As she read it, her eyes widened almost comically in disbelief. She looked back at him. "Is- is this for real?" Mark smiled.

"Yes, Julie, it is very real. For the next three years, the Crimson Caravan Company will deliver whatever medical supplies you need, free of charge. After that, they will sell them at cost. There will also be a monthly donation, courtesy of Alice McLafferty. There are safeguards in place to ensure compliance. A representative from the Crimson Caravan will be here within the week to see what you need ordered." Julie was flabbergasted. "I-I-you did-I…" She then started crying and hugged Mark.

As he held her, others in the courtyard stopped to see what was going on. Mark glared at them, and they quickly went back to whatever they had been doing. A couple of minutes later, Julie released him. She looked embarrassed as she wiped away her tears. "I'm sorry, Mark. I just- this is far more than I ever could have expected. You've been a godsend, and I don't know how I could repay you." "Julie, you can repay me by just continuing to do what you do. You guys provide a valuable service to Freeside, and while people may not always say thank you, it is appreciated."

"Thank you Mark, I-" She stopped in mid-sentence as an idea came to her. "I actually do know another way I can thank you. Wait right here." Before Mark could say anything, she dashed back up into the tower. A minute or two later, she came back out. "Here, take this," she said, handing him something. Mark looked at it. It was a key. "What is this key to?" Mark asked, examining it. "The Followers have a safehouse at the base of the hills that lead to Mount Charleston. There are beds if you need to rest, some medical supplies, food, and a few weapons. I figured since you're usually out and about, that you could use it."

"Hang on, Julie. Not that I don't find this useful, but what if one of you guys needs it?" She waved him off. "We have a spare, and it doesn't actually get used all that often. We have someone go check on it once or twice a month, and resupply it as needed, but that's about it." She looked back over at the courtyard. "Oh, it looks like I'm needed. Thank you again, Mark." "No problem, Julie. You have a good day."

A short while later, Boone and Mark arrived back at the King's HQ. Upon entering, he took off his helmet, and heard a commotion in the back room. When he entered, he smiled at what he saw. Abby and Amata were onstage, both wearing black jackets, dancing around and singing along with the radio to their friends and a few Kings, including the King himself. Mark caught the last few lines of the song:

"… _something's gotta give_

 _Something's gotta give_

 _Something's gotta give."_

Everyone started clapping as they finished, Mark included. The two of them then took a bow. As the Kings dispersed, Mark walked up to the stage. "DADDY!" Abby shouted as she saw him. She then jumped off the stage and into his arms. He gave her a kiss, and then helped Amata down with his free hand, giving her a kiss as well. "I have two beautiful _and_ talented ladies. How'd I ever get so lucky?" They giggled. "Did you have fun, Abby?" "I sure did! Everyone here is really nice. Oh! And I got to play with the dog. Can we take him home with us?"

"Sweetheart," Amata said as both she and Mark chuckled, "we've already been over this. He's the King's dog. Besides, ED-E might get jealous." They heard ED-E beep indignantly at this. "Tell you what, though. If you're good, we can come back and visit." "And I, for one, would welcome that," the King said, stepping into their line of vision, Rex at his heels. "It's been a long while since I've seen Rex this happy and active, and it's all thanks to that wonderful daughter of yours." Abby giggled and buried her head into Mark's chest.

"I assume that your endeavors were successful?" "Yeah," came Cass' voice from behind them, "how'd it go with McLafferty?" They turned around and saw the others. "I'll explain everything in a minute. Amata and I just need to give a couple of things to Abby." "I'll uh, give you some space. This seems to be a family thing. I'll be out front when you're ready," the King said. Mark nodded, and sat Abby down in one of the chairs, going down to one knee in front of her. "Abby, while your mother and I were out today, we got a couple of things for you." "You did?" Abby asked. "Yes, we did." Mark opened his bag, and took out a small bag of caps. Amata went into her satchel, and took out the necklace. Mark put the bag of caps on the table near Abby. Mark decided to tread carefully, seeing as they were about to bring up her deceased parents again, ironically breaking a rule they had set for the others.

"Abby, the first thing we want to give you is this bag of caps. There are ninety-five caps. Now, these caps, they, um, they were the caps that your birth father never got the chance to pick up." Abby looked at the bag a hint of sadness in her eyes. Amata took over. "Abby, do you remember Julie, the doctor that treated you?" Abby nodded. "Well, as it turns out, your mother gave this necklace to her, and now Julie wants you to have it." Amata slipped the necklace onto Abby. Amata then kneeled down next to Mark.

Abby examined the necklace for a few moments, and the shot off the chair, into Mark's arms, sobbing. Amata joined the two, making it a three-way hug, while the others watched them, tears in their eyes as well. A few minutes later, Abby's sobbing began to abate. "Abby," Mark said, "we're sorry for bringing up your parents again. We just thought that you would like something tangible to remember them by."

She gave the two of them a teary smile. "Thank…thank you." She paused for a moment. "I love you guys." Mark and Amata had tears in their eyes as they engulfed Abby in another hug. This was the first time that she had told either of them that she loved them. "We love you too, Abby. We love you too," Amata said. "Yeah," Mark said, "we love you, and we always will." They stayed that way for another minute before Mark pulled back and looked into Abby's eyes. "Are you okay, Abby?" She nodded. "Good. I promise, we won't bring your parents up again unless you want to talk about them, okay?" "Okay, daddy." Mark gave her a kiss, and then stood up.

Mark handed her over to Veronica. "Hey, kiddo. That is a very pretty necklace. I am _super_ jealous of you right now," Veronica said, attempting to lighten the mood. Everyone laughed, and then Mark spoke. "Okay. Arcade, can you go get the King?" Arcade nodded and went to get him. Once he came back, Mark addressed everyone. "Ok. King, I have some things that I need to tell everyone, yourself included. Would we be able to get some privacy?" The King nodded. "Sure. We can use this room, if that is acceptable." "It is. Thank you, King."

The King cleared the room of the other Kings, and Mark then had Abby stay with ED-E in the front room, citing that they needed to talk about "adult things." She pouted, but she left. Everyone took a seat while Mark leaned back against the stage. "Alright, so, I went to see Alice McLafferty with Colonel Hsu, after a slight detour on my part. I won't bore you with the details of what happened, but basically, McLafferty will be paying for any supplies the Followers need for the next three years, and she will be "donating" half of her monthly salary to them as well."

"Her superiors and the NCR President all agreed to this, and there are safeguards in place to ensure she can't get out of it." "That's great Mark!" Arcade exclaimed. "How did you ever get them to agree to that?" Mark smirked. "Well, when you're the Courier, as well as House's right-hand man, people tend to acquiesce to what you want rather quickly to curry favor." Mark then looked at Cass. "Cass, I know that this isn't exactly the retribution that you wanted, but I think this works out better for everyone in the long run."

"Mark," Cass said, "I already told ya, I trust ya ta do what ya think is right. Ya did what ya promised, so it's all good in ma book." Mark smiled. "Thanks, Cass. I do have a surprise for you, though. As part of the agreement, the Crimson Caravan Company relinquished any claim they had on Cassidy Caravans, so if, or when, you decide to start caravanning again, the name's all yours." With that, Cass got up from her chair and gave Mark a hug. "Thanks, Mark. Yer the best friend a gal could ask fer." "You're welcome, Cass. I value your friendship as well."

Cass then released the hug and sat back down. "Was that all, Mark?" Amata asked. "While I am proud of you for doing that for Cass, and the Followers, I don't see why Abby had to leave the room for that." Mark let out a sigh and then frowned. "No, babe, that's not why Abby had to leave the room. There was an ulterior motive for getting everyone out of the 38, and it has to do with House." "Mark," Amata asked, a worried look on her face, "what does House want you to do, exactly?"

Mark closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "House, he…he wants me to destroy the local chapter of the Brotherhood." Both Christine and Veronica jumped to their feet. "Mark, you can't do that," Christine said, looking furious. "She's right, Mark," Veronica said. "I may not be one of them anymore, but that doesn't mean that I want them all dead. House wants you to commit genocide, and then you'd be no better than Elijah." At that statement, Mark became furious. "DO NOT compare to that asshole! I never said I was planning on doing it anyway! Hell, every time I look at you two it's making me feel guilty just for knowing what he wants me to do!"

Amata got out of her chair and quickly made her way to Mark, hugging him and whispering soothing words into his ear to help calm him down. Eventually, Mark calmed down, and Amata released the hug, instead standing next to him, holding his hand. "Shame on you two," Amata said, frowning at Christine and Veronica. "You should know that Mark would **never** do something like that! He's not that kind of person. I wouldn't be with him if he was. Furthermore, he has tremendous respect for the Brotherhood, even if this chapter are a bunch of idiots. And Veronica, if you ever compare him to your batshit-crazy ex-Elder again, I will smack you!"

Christine and Veronica both looked chastised as they sat back down. "Sorry, Mark, I just got caught up in the moment," Christine said. "Yeah, Mark, I, um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. It just came out." "I accept your apologies," Mark said. He then turned to Amata and gave her a kiss. "Thank you, babe." "You're welcome, Mark. Now, I assume that there's more that you wanted to say?"

"Uh, yeah, so obviously I have no intention of killing them all. So, there are a few ways that I see this playing out. One, I refuse to do it, and House tells me and all of us to leave. Two, I refuse to do it, and he kills me. Three, I refuse, and he kills me and hunts the rest of you down. Seeing as none of those options appeal to me, Abby's well-being being a big part of that, I am left with only one option." He looked at Amata, and then around the rest of the room. "I am going to kill Robert House."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I always liked doing that unmarked quest, "A Final Plan for Esteban," so I decided to include it. Until next time, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**


	55. Chapter 55: Bringing Down The House

**Hello everyone! I know, it's only been about two weeks since I posted the last chapter, and I usually take a month to get the next one out. There were a couple factors at work here. I found this chapter easy to write, and I didn't have power for a couple of days due to a recent storm. Let me tell you, a lack of TV and video games is an extremely good motivator for writing. Anyway, this chapter is a turning point in the story. Enjoy, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated**

The room became deathly silent at Mark's proclamation, and everyone, including the normally stoic Boone, had a look of shock on their faces. "What?" Mark asked as he looked around the room. "Do I have something on my face?" Amata smacked him across the face. "OW! Why did you just hit me, babe?" "I-I'm not sure. That was just the first thing that came to mind. Sorry, honey." She gave him a kiss on the cheek that she just slapped. "Better?" Mark grinned. "You can kiss my boo-boos anytime, babe." "Ok, so tell me you didn't say what I thought I heard you say." "Well, if you heard me say that I am going to kill House, then you heard correctly."

"Hey!" Veronica said as the others came back to reality as well. "What exactly did you mean when you said that you were going to kill House?" "Well, by kill, I mean end the life of, and by Robert House, I mean the guy who runs the 38 and wants me to off the Brotherhood. I think it was a fairly straightforward statement." Before Veronica could respond, Arcade cut in. "I believe what Veronica meant by that was how exactly do you plan to do something that would seem to be impossible." The others nodded in agreement.

"Alright. First of all, while no one has actually seen House, he is still human, and can be killed. When I first spoke with him, he told me that he had to make sacrifices to stay alive in the two-hundred plus years since the war." The King interrupted. "Wait, wait, wait, so House was alive before the war?" "Yes, King, he was. That means that he either voluntarily subjected himself to radiation and became a ghoul, or is using machines to keep himself alive. I am inclined to believe the latter over the former, as House likes to calculate odds, and whether you become a ghoul or get killed from overexposure to radiation is a crapshoot."

"House also appears to be invincible, but that is only because he has an army of Securitrons at his disposal, and due to the fact that no one had been inside the Lucky 38 since the bombs dropped. That problem has already been solved by him giving us access to the 38. Don't get me wrong, the man is smart, but I believe that that is his fatal flaw. He likes to predict the future based on what happened in the past, and what he knows of human nature. I do not think that he would expect anyone to be foolish enough to try and take him down, inside his own fortress, no less. That is how I will kill him. He relies on the predictable, so I must do something unpredictable."

"So, on to the actual killing him part. Every time that I've gone up to the Penthouse, I've noticed that there is a computer under a set of stairs that does not appear to serve any purpose. It would seem odd that someone would put a computer underneath a staircase like that, unless they were attempting to hide the computer. In addition, the Penthouse appears to be smaller than it should be, leading me to believe that the computer opens some sort of false wall, either with House behind it, or some passageway that will lead me to him."

Amata stood in front of him, a look of concern on her face. She took both of his hands in hers, and looked directly in his eyes. "Mark, honey, I'm hearing a lot of speculation, and not a whole lot of solid, concrete information. There are a whole mess of things that could go wrong." "Amata, babe, you know me. You know what I've done, and you know that I wouldn't be doing something like this without a good reason. Believe me, I realize that it is a lot of guesswork on my part, but I've done more with less, and this needs to be done."

As they gazed into each other's eyes, Amata realized that he had a point. She didn't know it when she was still in the vault, but a lot of the things that he did in DC, he did based on outdated, incomplete, or next to no information. She had only heard about the end result of his adventures. She didn't learn the full scope of what he did until they came to the Mojave. As much as she didn't want to admit it, he was right. She gave him a small smile and nodded. "Ok, Mark. Go ahead. You have my blessing."

"Wait, 'Mata, yer okay with this?" Cass asked incredulously. "No, Cass, I'm not, but he's right. If I've learned anything about him in the twenty or so years that I've known him, it is that he is at his best when the odds are not even close to being in his favor. My faith in him is unwavering and absolute. Am I worried? Yes, but that worry comes from a place of love, not from a lack of faith." Mark smiled and gave her a kiss. "Thank you, babe." "You're welcome, honey. Now, do you have a plan, or is this one of those times that you're going to wing it?"

Mark hefted his bag on the table and looked through it. "Eh, a little of column A, a little of column B." He pulled out what he was looking for. "A stealth boy?! That's your plan?!" Veronica exclaimed. "Well, do you have any better ideas, Miss Santangelo?" "How about not doing it for one?" Mark sighed. "Veronica, do you want me to be killed?" "What? No, of course not." "Ok, so do you want me to kill everyone in the Brotherhood?" "Again, no." "Well then, what do you propose I do? Despite what I said earlier, I doubt that House is just going to let me walk away. I know too much. It's not the best plan, but short of assembling an army and assaulting the Strip and the 38, it is the best that I can come up with."

Veronica seemed to have an argument with herself, before shaking her head, seemingly resigned. "Ok, I see your point. Just- just be careful, okay?" Mark walked over to her and gave her a hug. "Hey, don't worry. I'll make it through this." "You better. You still owe me a favor." Mark chuckled. "That I do." Mark released the hug, and then addressed the King. "King, I hate to ask, since you've already been a gracious host, but-" The King interrupted. "Say no more. It is not a problem. They can stay while you do what you need to do." They then shook hands. "Thank you, King. You're a good man."

Mark decided that he needed to get going, so he turned back to Amata. "Alright. If you don't hear from me in two hours, assume the worst." "Mark-" Mark put a finger on her lips. "If the worst should come to pass, which I doubt it will, initiate Contingency Plan Z to make sure everyone is safe." Amata's eyes widened. "But that would mean…" "I know what it would mean, but it's a small price to pay. The you-know-what is in my bag." Amata pulled Mark in for a passionate kiss, one that seemed to convey just how much they loved one another, neither caring that they had an audience.

Eventually, they broke away and touched their foreheads together. "You better come back. I need my husband, and you're going to have two kids who need their father," Amata said, her voice barely above a whisper, tears threatening to fall. "I will always come back, babe." "Good. Now go, before I change my mind. I love you, Mark." "Love you too, Amata." Mark switched out his assault rifle for a plasma rifle, and then grabbed his helmet and looked at the rest of the group. He gave them a short nod, before striding out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

In the front room, he found ED-E chasing Abby. When she saw Mark, she ran over to him. "Daddy, are we going home now?" Mark got down to one knee and gave her a kiss. "Not yet, sweetheart. I need to run an errand first, and then we'll all head back." He didn't want to lie to her, but he found it necessary so that she wouldn't worry. "Go on, Abby. I think that your mom wants to see you." She smiled. "Okay. I love you, daddy. Good luck on your errand." "I love you too, sweetheart." As Abby ran in the back room, Mark sighed, put on his helmet, and headed out the door.

Walking back to the Strip, Abby's and Amata's faces remained at the forefront of his mind, giving him the courage and conviction that he needed to actually go through with this. 'You're doing this for them,' he mentally repeated to himself. He proceeded through the gate as he normally would. Once he stepped into the elevator of the 38, he put his plan into action and activated the stealth boy. Once the door opened at the Penthouse, he stuck his head out and looked around. Seeing no Securitrons in the immediate vicinity, he stepped out, and decided to take a roundabout way so that he would come down the stairs under which the terminal was located.

He passed by a couple of Securitrons, who seemed to take no notice of him. He walked as softly and carefully as he could, not wanting to attract unneeded attention, sweating profusely. He kept his hand on one of the pulse grenades on his belt (easier said than done, since he was invisible), just in case. He peeked out of the doorway from the second level and into House's office. There were a couple of Securitrons in front of the monitor, but the monitor itself was blank. He then walked down the stairs and found the terminal. He started typing, each click of the key resonating loudly in the area, or maybe that was just what it felt like to him.

He broke through, and entered 'yes' when it asked if he wanted to open the antechamber. It was then that alarms started blaring, and a section of wall that was next to the computer opened. Mark ran through, avoiding Securitrons that seemed to be unable to detect him while the stealth boy was active. Mark was surprised. He figured that House would've thought of that. The antechamber had a few servers with wires running along the floor. Mark quickly looked around, and found an elevator with another terminal next to it. Under the gun, Mark made quick work of the terminal, unlocking the elevator.

There were only two buttons in the elevator, up and down, so Mark pressed the down button, praying that House didn't disable the elevator, or worse, send Mark plunging to his death. He waited for something bad to happen, but all that happened was the elevator door opening. Mark stepped out and looked around. He had stepped out onto an elevated platform which had a control panel and terminal a few feet in front of him. Beyond that, at the end of the platform were a few servers, and a computer that seemed to be monitoring vital signs. There was also a large, metal chamber with a small window that had a light bluish tinge to it. Looking around the rest of the room, there were pipes running along the wall, and when he looked over the side of the platform, he saw a dark abyss below. What he didn't see was any defenses, so he deactivated the stealth boy.

Mark went to the terminal, and was surprised when there was no password protection. Then he realized that House likely didn't anticipate anyone getting this far. There was only one option on the terminal, 'Unseal LS Chamber,' so Mark clicked that, and then hit 'Yes' to proceed when a warning of a microbial infection risk came up. The chamber began to hiss open, and once it was open, a whirring noise was heard as a platform came up and out, and settled vertically in front of the chamber. What Mark saw was, well, it was not a pretty sight.

Mr. House slightly resembled a ghoul, except that the skin was grey, and none of it was hanging loosely. His arms were scrunched up close to his chest. There was some type of helmet with a tube running from it, likely some type of neural interface. There were also two glowing plates with tubes running from them on his midsection, one running to his heart and the other running to his stomach. There was also what looked like metal underpants attached to where his privates were, also with a tube running from it.

"Gotta be honest, House. I was expecting a bit more of a challenge to get down here." House spoke in a raspy, wheezing voice. "Why…why are you…doing this? I…I gave you…ev…everything." Before Mark responded, he took another look at the computer, and severed House's control of the Lucky 38's systems and the Securitrons. "Well, House," Mark said as he removed his helmet, "first I'll answer that question, and then address that statement. You ask why I did this? I did this because you asked me to kill my friends. That is something that I will never do."

"I believed in what you said House, about restoring Vegas and humanity to their former glories. Honestly, I did. It all started to go downhill when you threatened to harm Amata and Abby. It was then that I became a bit more wary of you. Then you asked me to kill Veronica and Christine. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. If you wanted me to kill those two, how long would it be before you asked me to kill everyone else? I couldn't let that happen."

"As for giving me everything? What did you give me, exactly? Money? I already had plenty of that. A place to live? Had that, too. Yes, the Presidential Suite is nice, but I'm going to let you in on a little secret, House: I don't care where I live, as long as Amata and Abby are with me. We could live in a radroach-infested shack, and if they were happy, I would be happy, too. Security? Yes, the Securitrons are impressive, but I have the ultimate safehouse in case things got too bad. So, House, you say that you gave me everything? You gave me **nothing**." "You…you let mere…trivial things…derail the future…of mankind," House wheezed out.

Mark shook his head. "Once again, House, you are wrong. Love, and friendship, those things are not trivial. They make life worth living. You may still be technically human, House, but you lost your humanity a long time ago." Mark grabbed Maria off his left hip. He looked at it and chuckled. "Ironic, isn't it? This whole sequence of events started with two bullets from this very gun. You know, if you want to blame anyone for this, blame Benny. If he hadn't shot me, I would've simply made the delivery and then headed back to Goodsprings. Oh well. What's done is done."

Mark leveled the pistol at House. "Any last words, House?" "May…you burn…in a cold…Tartarus…hell." "Same to you, House. Same to you." Mark put two bullets in House's chest, and the machine that was monitoring House's vitals flatlined. "Huh. So the great Robert House, alive for over two-hundred years, restorer of Vegas, has been felled by a guy who, less than a year ago, left the vault for the very first time in nearly twenty years of life. There's some irony, or something in there, I think." He shrugged, took one last look at House, and then went back to the Penthouse.

The Penthouse was quiet. The alarms had been silenced, and the Securitrons were still. Mark walked back into what was House's office. The computer only displayed 'connection lost.' Part one of his plan was done. Now it was time Part two. He got back on the elevator, and headed down towards the main floor. As the elevator descended, he thought back to a conversation that had taken place on their first night in Vegas.

(Approximately 2 weeks ago)

"Yes Man, what do you know about this Chip?" "Oh, Benny had me look at it a bunch of times. It's a data storage device, kind of like a holotape, but much more advanced! As for what's on it, well… some of Mr. House's transmissions made it sound like the Chip could upgrade his defenses somehow! That's just a guess, though! The Chip's a proprietary format! You'd need special hardware to read the data on it! There are two locations with non-standard hardware on the network- The Lucky 38 and an underground facility at Fortification Hill. I'd look there!" Mark nodded.

"Ok. What was Benny planning to do with the Chip?" "Oh! He wanted to kill Mr. House to copy my neuro-computational matrix onto the Lucky 38's mainframe. That should give me control over all of Mr. House's defenses, most prominently the Securitrons. Then I guess I just do what I'm told!" Mark began to wonder what was up with this Securitron. "Yes Man, why are you not like the other Securitrons? Did Benny reprogram you?" "Oh no! Benny had some help- a lady friend of his! She said something about living in a Fort over in Freeside, but that's all I remember!"

"What did he reprogram you to do?" Mark asked. "Good question! My function is to monitor Mr. House's data network and decode his encrypted transmissions!" "You seem to be very forthcoming with all of this information." Mark was grateful for the information, but it just seemed odd that he was offering all of it freely. "Oh! I was programmed to be helpful and answer any questions that I was asked. I guess nobody bothered to restrict who I answered questions for. That was probably pretty dumb, huh?" "Yes, that was dumb of Benny, for sure."

Mark decided to go with a different line of questioning. "Yes Man, do you know anything about that courier that Benny shot?" Mark figured that if Yes Man worked with Benny, he would know about it. Yes Man sounded proud of himself. "I know that he was carrying the Platinum Chip, and I knew right where Benny should wait for him! That's why Benny put me here. To monitor Mr. House's data transmissions. They're encrypted, but I am quite the decryptor."

"Did you know that Mr. House spent 812,545 caps hiring salvage teams to find the Platinum Chip-in the last year alone? Of course you didn't! Or that there were seven couriers, but six of them were carrying junk? How about their exact routes? I knew all of that. Pretty smart, huh?" Mark rubbed his scar. "Yes, that was very smart, Yes Man. The thing is, I'm the courier that Benny shot." Yes Man laughed. "Hahaha, I know that's not true, because you still have a head!"

"I'm serious, Yes Man. The scar on my head is the result of those bullets." "That's not funny, you getting shot in the head," Yes Man said, still laughing, although it conveyed a sense of guilt, kind of. "No, it's not, but I'm alive, so…" He trailed off and checked the time, realizing he needed to get back to the others. He put the Chip in his jacket, and then asked Yes Man one final question.

"Yes Man, just out of curiosity, let's say that I wanted to take over Vegas myself. What then?" "Then I'd have to help you! I mean, it seems pretty obvious that Benny wouldn't have wanted me to, but hey, it's not my fault that I can't say no!" Mark smiled. "Thank you, Yes Man. I need to depart, but I may be in contact." "Oh, I can't wait! And I'm not just saying that because I have to!" Mark chuckled, and then departed the room.

(Present Day)

He had kept his conversation with Yes Man to himself. He hadn't even told Amata, just in case House got wind of it and did something drastic. He had never anticipated using that information, at least not until House had threatened Amata and Abby. That was when he seriously began contemplating actually finishing the plan that Benny had started. What he needed to do now was somehow get Yes Man down from Benny's room without anyone noticing.

As he approached the Tops, he was shocked when he found the exact Securitron he was looking for standing outside the building. Mark approached him slowly. "Yes Man? Is that you?" "Oh hey, it's you! Boy it sure has been a while since I've seen you!" "Yes it has, Yes Man. What are you doing down here?" Mark asked, looking around to see if anyone had noticed the odd-looking Securitron. "Oh! Benny gave me strict instructions that if I detected Mr. House ever going off-line, that I was to go outside and wait for him! That order was never counter-manned, so here I am! I've never seen the outside world before! It sure is something, isn't it?"

"Yes Man, listen, I need you to come with me up to the Lucky 38 Penthouse. It's, uh, regarding what we discussed." "Will do! If you want, I can jump into a Securitron right in the Penthouse! Or I can go with you just like this! It's completely up to you!" "Yeah, jump into a Securitron. I'll meet you up there." "Wonderful choice! And I'm not just saying that because I have to!" Yes Man's faced left the Securitron, leaving a normal one in its place. Mark dashed back to the 38 and rode the elevator back to the Penthouse, where he found Yes Man waiting for him.

"Ok, Yes Man," Mark said, "you said that Benny wanted to use the Chip to copy you onto House's mainframe. How exactly would I do that?" "Good question! First, I need to be hard-wired into the mainframe, and once that's done, you need to insert that Platinum Chip, and it will reset administrator privileges. It'll be super easy!" It took Mark about a half-hour, but he eventually wired Yes Man directly into the mainframe. Mark then went to insert the Platinum Chip. "Well, here's goes something."

He put the Chip in, it disappearing into the console. A moment or two later, there was a loud crash as the Securitron that Yes Man was using fell over, his face disappearing from it. Mark waited for a few minutes, getting worried when nothing happened, until he saw Yes Man's face on the giant terminal that once displayed the face of Mr. House. "Wow!" Yes Man said, "Mr. House has quite the setup here! I can access his databanks, and view telemetry on every Securitron on the network!" "So everything went well? Everything uploaded correctly?" Mark asked.

"Yup! Everything is all set and ready to go! This is so exciting!" "Good," Mark said, sighing in relief. He then realized that he needed to call Amata, as the two-hour limit was approaching. "For now, Yes Man, everything is to run normally, as when House was in control. Also, are you able to locate the programming code that makes you answer questions for anyone?" "Let's see…yup! I found it! Nasty little bugger!" "Good," Mark said. "First thing I need you to do is to isolate it. Are you able to self-correct, or does it need to be done manually?"

"Well, now that I'm on the Lucky 38's mainframe, I can do it myself! Isn't that exciting? I'll be going into, well, it's sort of a standby mode for a bit, an hour and forty-two minutes to be exact, so that I can fix it, but don't worry! Everything will run as it should. Mr. House had contingency plans in place to ensure that the Securitrons would act as they normally would, in case something went wrong with his systems!" Mark nodded. "Ok, do it. Once you're done, restrict any question-answering or order-giving to me and my wife, who I will introduce to you later." "You got it!" Yes Man said. "I'll actually be able to refuse to answer something! My circuits are all tingly with anticipation! Going into standby mode in 5…4…3…2…1…"

Yes Man's face disappeared, leaving lines of code running on the screen. With that done, Mark went to contact the others. "Amata, babe, are you there?" "Mark, is that you? Are you okay? What happened? Is it safe to come back now?" Mark chuckled internally. "Yes, it's me. I'm fine, and I'll explain everything when you get back here, okay?" She sounded relieved. "Ok, Mark. We'll see you when we get back. Love you, honey." "I love you too, babe. I'll see you in a bit."

(45 minutes later)

The door to the elevator opened, and Amata, with Abby in her arms, ran into the hallway. "Mark?" she called out. "In the game room," came Mark's response. She walked quickly over to the game room, and saw Mark sitting in one of the chairs, wearing a white t-shirt, khaki shorts, and his combat boots, drinking a beer and listening to music on his pip-boy. As soon as he saw them, he turned the music off, and went to her, meeting her and Abby halfway, giving both of them a hug.

She then looked at him. "Is it done?" Mark nodded. "Yeah, it's done. It was actually a lot easier than I thought, too." He saw the others in the doorway, Boone carrying Mark's bag. "Hey everyone. Why don't we all take a seat, and I'll explain what's going on now." They all sat down, Amata sitting next to Mark with Abby in her lap, Cass sitting behind the bar, and for some reason, Veronica decided to sit cross-legged on the pool table.

"Alright, everyone, so, uh, actually Amata, can you cover Abby's ears?" She did so, with Abby pouting. "Ok, so, obviously, I'm still alive, which means that I've succeeded, and House is dead." "You're serious? House is really dead?" Veronica asked. "Yes, he is. It seems that the Securitrons can't detect anyone under a stealth boy, and I was correct as to where he was. Although, at this point, he was basically a ghoul. Ok, babe, you can remove your hands now." She nodded as she did so.

"So what happens now?" Arcade asked. "Well," Mark said, "right now, the city is being run by an AI named 'Yes Man.' Nothing has changed with how the Securitrons are acting, and any other defenses House had are still active. Essentially, as far as anyone outside of these walls knows, House is still alive, and I'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible." His eyes briefly flicked over to Christine. As far as he knew, she was hardcore Brotherhood, so he didn't know if she would relay this information to them or not. Since she was with Veronica, however, he gave her the benefit of the doubt. "What about Sarah, Mark?" Amata asked. Mark rubbed his chin. "Oh, right. Um, I'll think about that."

"Were did this AI come from?" Arcade asked, continuing his questioning. "Benny had help reprogramming him, and was using him to monitor House's transmissions. I stumbled upon him when I was looking for the Chip on our first night in Vegas. Actually, Arcade, Yes Man said that Benny had help from one of the Followers, a woman if I remember correctly." "Must have been Emily Ortal, then. She's the only one I'm aware of around here that has the knowledge to do that." "Yeah, so this was actually Benny's plan in the first place, to get rid of House, and then put Yes Man on House's network, although I'm sure that Benny had different reasons for doing so."

"Mark," Arcade said "who is in charge of the city, now that House is gone? That is, since I assume that you're not planning to leave it completely to an AI." "I think that's fairly obvious, ya nerd. Our good ol' Captain is in charge now," Cass said. "Yeah," Veronica said with mirth in her eyes, "so what should we call you now? Mr. President? Your Excellency? The Head Honcho? The Big Cheese? The…" "Veronica," Mark said, "I get it. But you won't be calling me any of that, because I have someone else in mind to run the city." There were confused looks directed at him. "Who?" Christine asked.

Mark casually pointed to his right, where Amata was sitting. Even Amata herself was shocked by this turn of events. "Why Amata?" Christine queried. "Because, while I loathe to admit that he actually did something right, her father really did do a pretty good job of grooming her to take over the running of the vault one day. She is a far better choice to run this city than I ever could be." "Mark," Amata said, "I think we need to talk in private." She stood up and plopped Abby onto the chair she was just in. She then walked over to Mark, pulled him off the chair and out of the game room. Mark grabbed his bag on the way by. Once in their room, Mark shut the door behind them.

"Mark, I appreciate the gesture, but you need to be the one running this city, not me." "Babe, this is what you are suited for. Sure, the city is larger than the vault, but the principle is still the same. Besides, I hate playing politics. Today was a prime example of that. You have no idea how many times I got the urge to shoot both Hsu and McLafferty for being idiots. I don't want to deal with any of that crap." Amata sat down, and motioned Mark to do the same.

"First of all, Mark, being Overseer was what I _was_ suited for. I gave that up because I realized that that was not my true calling in life. Despite what you think **, you** are the one who is suited to run this city. You genuinely care about people, Mark. You did all those things in DC, helped all those people, because it was the right thing to do. It's the same thing out here. You helped out Veronica, Arcade, Cass, and Boone, not because they paid you, or promised you something in return, but because you saw people who needed help, and now those same people are our friends."

"I know that you don't like politics, but look at what you did today. The Followers needed help, and you got them help by convincing the NCR to back you against McLafferty." Mark went to speak, but Amata stopped him. "Look, I know that you're going to say that it was just because you're the Courier or whatever, but I don't believe that. You may not like playing politics, but the fact of the matter is that you are very good at it. You are also a natural leader. I am convinced that if my dad wasn't the Overseer, you would have been the one who was next in line for that. You don't give yourself enough credit, Mark. Everyone here, save for maybe Abby, are here because of you."

"They look to you to be their leader. They believe in you, just like I believe in you. Mark, I have watched you grow from a boy into a man, and I could not be more proud of the man you've become if I tried, and I know that you know that your parents are proud of you, too." She paused. "Mark, do you remember what you said in Goodsprings, when we decided to track down Benny?" "Um, not really, babe. Refresh my memory please." "You told me that going on that hunt felt like it was part of your destiny. Well, your destiny has led you here, Mark."

"You, Mark Franklin" she said poking him in the chest with her finger, "helped shape the Capital Wasteland into a place where people finally have a chance to live in peace. There is no doubt in my mind that you can do the same thing here for Vegas, Freeside, hell, the entire Mojave. You are the one to do it, Mark. You, not me. But like I've said before, I will always be behind you, and I will give you advice," she smirked, "whether you ask for it or not."

Mark smiled and pulled her in for a kiss. "I guess that that old saying is true, that behind every great man-" "-is an even greater woman." Amata finished. Mark chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds about right to me. You are pretty great." "And don't you forget it." There was silence for a few moments, before Mark spoke again. "I think it's time, babe." "Time for what?" Mark stood up and walked over to the framed Revelations quote on the wall. Amata soon joined him.

"I think that it's time to reveal my past. Our past. I'm tired of hiding it. I wanted to keep it hidden because I wanted to be normal, but I've concluded that normalcy will never be in the cards for me. With all of this going on now, I think they all deserve to know the truth. Are you okay with that?" She leaned her head on his right shoulder. "Yeah, I'm fine with it. Besides, it will give them even more reasons to believe in you as a leader. Now come on, Mister Lone Wanderer, let's go tell our friends who you really are so that they may bask in the glow of your sheer awesomeness." They both laughed as Mark took the quote off the wall and put it in his bag. He also took the metal briefcase from under their bed and put it in his bag as well. "I think that Sarah needs to hear about this, too. She is family, after all." Amata nodded, and they both left the room hand-in-hand.

They stopped in the doorway of the game room, and everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at them. "Ok," Mark said, "Amata and I have talked. We agreed that I will be in charge of the city. However, I would like you all to be a council of sorts to me. I have no desire to be any type of dictator. "Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely," is a saying that comes mind. I have seen far too many times what happens when people in power are left unchecked." Mark winked at Amata at that, and Amata sent a mock glare back at him.

"So, what you're suggesting is something more along the lines of an oligarchy," Arcade said. "Yes, Arcade, that is exactly what I am suggesting." "An' what exactly is an oli- whatever tha hell ya just said?" Cass asked. "Cass! Language!" Amata chastised. "Sorry, 'Mata. Answer tha question, doc." "Well," Arcade said, "an oligarchy is a form of government in which the power rests with a small group of people, rather than just one person, which is the definition of a dictatorship, which is what the Legion is, and House was." "Thanks, doc," Cass said. She then looked at Mark a smirk on her face. "So, does that mean we can smack ya if yer bein' an idiot?"

Mark chuckled. "Yes, Cass, in a nutshell, that is what it means." There was silence for a few moments before Arcade spoke again. "The king is dead; long live the king!" the Followers doctor proclaimed. Mark groaned as everyone else laughed. "All hail tha king!" Cass joked, raising a glass of whiskey in a toast. Abby got off the pool table and ran up to Mark, who picked her up. "Are you really a king, daddy?" "No, Abby, I'm not a king. Auntie Cass and Mr. Arcade were trying to be funny." "Hey, I thought it was funny," Veronica said.

"Yes, well, if all of you comedians will follow me, we have something we need to discuss." "Why can't we just do that here?" Christine asked. "Because," Mark said, "my sister needs to hear this as well, and she won't leave the vault, so we need to go over there." Mark and Amata turned and left the room with Abby, leaving the others looking at each other with curious glances, except for Boone, that is.

The sun was setting as the group made their way towards Vault 21. As they walked in, they saw Sarah conversing with a Caucasian man with short black hair, also wearing a blue jumpsuit. Sarah's face lit up when she saw Mark and Amata. She ran over and gave the two of them a hug. "Mark! Amata! What a wonderful surprise! I thought that I wouldn't be seeing you for a couple of days." "We're here to make good on our promise," Mark answered. "Oh goody! I can't wait!" She then saw Abby in between Mark and Amata. "Mark, is this my niece?" Mark grinned. "Yup. Sarah, say hi to your niece, Abigail Celeste Fields. Abby, say hi to my sister, your Auntie Sarah."

Sarah kneeled down and pulled Abby into a crushing hug. "Hi, Abby! It is so wonderful to meet you! You are _so_ adorable!" "Are you really my daddy's sister?" Abby asked. "I sure am, Abby. It was a surprise for sure, but it was a wonderful surprise." "Uh, Sarah," Mark said, "is there somewhere we can talk in private?" Sarah stood back up. She looked disappointed. "Mark, I'm sorry, I just remembered that I'm supposed to watch the front desk now." Mark looked over at the guy who Sarah had been talking to, and then back to Sarah. "Is that the guy you're taking over for?" "Yeah, that's Mikey."

Mark walked over to the man. "Mikey, how many caps do you earn during your shift?" "Fifty. What's it to you?" Mark put his bag on the desk and opened it up. He took out a small bag. "Well, Mikey, I need to borrow my sister for a little while. I'll give you a hundred caps right now to keep watching the desk." Mikey thought it over. "Hundred-fifty," he said. "Hundred-twenty," Mark countered. "Hundred-thirty," Mikey said. Mark nodded. "Deal." He counted out the caps and gave them to him. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mikey." Mark then turned back to Sarah. "Now, Sarah, I'll ask again, is there any place we can speak in private?"

"Um, there is an old conference room on the next level down. Will that work?" "That'll be fine, Sarah. Please lead on." The conference room they entered was spartan in nature, only having a long wooden table with a projector on it, and metal chairs surrounding it. Everyone moved towards a seat. "Mark, what about Abby?" Amata whispered to him. "She can stay. I think that she needs to hear this as well." Amata looked pensive, but nodded. Amata squatted down and spoke to Abby quietly. "Abby, you're going to hear some things that may sound scary, but I need you to remember that your daddy is here and safe, okay?" Abby looked curiously at the two of them, and then nodded. "Ok."

Mark sat down at the head of the table, with Abby sitting in Amata's lap to his right. "Ok. Couple things before we start. Sarah, that woman next to Veronica is Christine Royce, Veronica's girlfriend, and the guy in the white jacket is our friend Arcade Gannon, a doctor for the Followers. Christine, Arcade, this is my sister, Sarah Weintraub." They all exchanged pleasantries. "Good. Second thing. Sarah, I know we promised that we would tell you about our lives in the vault, and you will hear that, plus a lot more." He then opened his bag, took out the framed Revelations quote, and propped it up against the projector so the others could see it. He then began to speak.

"I am Alpha and Omega. The Beginning and the End. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely. Revelations 21:6." He paused for a moment. "Twenty-seven words from an old-world religious text. Twenty-seven words that have been ingrained in my mind by my father since I was old enough to understand English. For most of my life, I was told one reason as to why he liked it so much. The real reason that he liked it, however, only became known to me within the past year, when the words took on a very literal quality. This passage has been one of the few constants in my life. A life that all of you have been curious about. One that myself and Amata have mostly kept hidden."

"I am…a child of two worlds, you could say. The one I thought I was born into, and the one I was actually born into. Veronica, Cass, I know that you have both heard stories about some heroic figure who came out of a vault in DC, one whom they called the "Lone Wanderer." I'm not sure what, if anything, the rest of you have heard about that, since rumors tend to get twisted and exaggerated. Well, I am here to set the record straight." He looked at Amata, who gave him an encouraging smile. The others bore looks of curiosity, except for Veronica, who smirked at him, likely knowing what he was about to say. He sighed, and decided to just get it out there.

"I am that heroic figure. I am the Lone Wanderer."

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. So, the truth is finally out there, at least partially. Mark and Amata's full explanation of their lives will come in the next chapter. I briefly thought about including it in this chapter, but I figured that this was a good stopping point, and because it would have made this chapter far longer than I am comfortable with. This chapter is over 7,000 words as it is. And before I get any reviews saying that the killing of House seemed too easy, I am aware of that fact, so you don't need to tell me. I borrowed the method from another story that I can't remember the name of. I liked the idea, so I went with it. Just wanted to get that out there. Until next time, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.**


	56. Chapter 56: Legends Never Die

**Author's Note: Hello everyone! I hope that you are all doing well. This chapter is the chapter in which Mark and Amata reveal their pasts. I know from the messages and reviews that I've received that a few of you have been waiting for this. Well, it's finally here. There will also include a flashback to what fully happened the day Mark returned to the vault before he was thrown out, which was where this whole story began. Alright, I think I've talked enough. Enjoy, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**

" _I am that heroic figure. I am the Lone Wanderer."_

Veronica jumped up out of her chair. "Ha! I knew it! I knew it! I knew that it was you! All of the evidence added up, and now you admitted it! I was right!" Veronica pumped both of her fists in celebration. That elicited some chuckles from around the room. "Yes, Veronica," Mark said, smiling, "you were right. I figured that you were putting all of the pieces together, given your link to the Brotherhood."

"Hang on, I'm confused," Sarah said. "I've never heard anything about anyone named the "Lone Wanderer." What is the big deal?" "Well, Sarah," Veronica said, sitting back down, "the big deal is, if what I've heard is true, then we are in the presence of a living legend. Allow me to explain. I was a part of the local chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel. Just as a bit of background information for those that don't know, the Brotherhood was founded shortly after the Great War by U.S. Army Captain Roger Maxson, who became the Brotherhood's first High Elder."

"The first members of the Brotherhood were Maxson's team, their families, and some scientists who had holed up in the old Mariposa Military Base while the bombs fell. Eventually, they left Mariposa, sealed the base, and relocated to Lost Hills, a government fallout shelter, which became their headquarters. In Brotherhood lore, this event is known as "the Exodus.""

"Membership was limited to the original group and their descendants. No outsiders were allowed to join. The Brotherhood's policy towards outsiders can be summed up in two sentences: "We do not help them, or let them in. We keep knowledge they must never have." Which, in my opinion, is a bunch of closed-minded bullsh- I mean, um, BS." She caught herself before she swore in front of Abby. "So, the purpose of the Brotherhood is to collect what they, in their infinite wisdom, perceive as dangerous technology, so that an event like the Great War would never occur again."

"About twenty years ago, a group was sent to Washington, DC to, among other things, collect any technology from there, as it was the capital and seat of government for the United States, as well as where its military was based out of. The group, led by then-Paladin Owyn Lyons, discovered the ruins of the Pentagon, and found a piece of tech there. I'm not sure what it was, as that piece of information was deemed classified, but that discovery earned him a field promotion to Elder. Their orders were then changed. Instead of returning to the west coast, they were to establish a permanent presence in the area. The Pentagon, renamed the Citadel, was made their base."

"This is where things went off-track, as far as the High Elders were concerned, at least. The DC ruins were overrun by super mutants, which the group beat back upon their initial incursion into the city. That act made them heroes to the local populace. From what I've read, and Mark can probably confirm this, Elder Lyons decided to pursue a moral path, declaring that protecting the non-hostile wastelanders would be their new primary objective, while collecting any tech would be secondary. He even started recruiting members from the wasteland." The others looked at Mark, who nodded. Veronica continued.

"While some of the High Elders liked what he was doing, others didn't, as he was viewed as betraying the Brotherhood's core beliefs. They compromised, and made the decision that Lyons would still be an Elder, and that that chapter would still be recognized as part of the Brotherhood, but all support was cut off. Recently, that chapter was out here in an attempt at reconciliation. The same chapter that your brother and sister-in-law came out here with."

"They told some _fantastical_ tales of a kid that came out of a vault, whom aided the Brotherhood, and did a lot of heroic deeds. They called him the "Lone Wanderer," and they spoke about him like he was an angel of justice sent down from the heavens or something. The interesting thing is, they never mentioned him by his true name, just by that moniker. Apparently, that was a condition under which they could mention what he had done at all, because he wanted anonymity. The very fact that they acceded to that request when he wouldn't have known told me how much they thought of him."

"Then, about two weeks or so ago, I met Mark and Amata at the 188 Trading Post, and I learned that they came out of a vault in DC. That was my first clue. Then it was all the little things. Them being vague with their pasts, finding out that he had Brotherhood holotags…" She trailed off and looked at Mark. "That was why McNamara wanted to talk with you in private. It was because of what was on your holotags, wasn't it?"

"Once again, Veronica, you are correct. I asked Sentinel Lyons not to use my name, and in exchange they were free to use my…legend, I guess, if it would help them reconcile with you guys. And yes, McNamara figured out who I was because of my holotags. He put two and two together." "You know," Arcade said, "I do remember some rumors floating around the Fort about that, but I dismissed them because they seemed too good to be true." "Boone, have you heard anything about that?" Mark asked.

"Same as Arcade. Just rumors, nothing more. Didn't really concern myself with it." "Christine?" Christine shook her head. "Been away from the Mojave for a while," she answered. Mark nodded. "Alright. Amata and I are going to tell you everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly. As someone once told me, there shouldn't be any secrets between family." He smiled at Abby, who smiled back. "On my pip-boy, and Amata's as well, there are recorded radio broadcasts that a local radio DJ named Three Dog kept for posterity. The only reason that I have them is that if I had any kids, I would want them to know the truth one day."

"They are encrypted files that _someone_ attempted to access while we were at Cottonwood Cove." He looked pointedly at Veronica, who attempted to look innocent. "The encryption can only be bypassed with a specific vocal command by myself or Amata." "A voice lock, like you did with the password that Elijah wanted, right?" Christine asked. "Yeah, just like that, Christine." He pressed a few buttons, and then spoke into his pip-boy. "Enable file decryption. Authorization passphrase: The Lone Wanderer lives."

A couple of short beeps indicated that the files were now unlocked. "Our story will now begin. I just ask that you all save your questions, comments, concerns, et cetera, until the end. Agreed?" After the others agreed, he began to speak. "I was born on May 16th, 2258, to James and Catherine Franklin in the basement of the Jefferson Memorial." "And I was born on August 12th, 2258 to Alphonse and Julie Almodovar in Vault 101," Amata said. "Wait, you weren't born in the vault, Mark?" Veronica asked. Mark rubbed his eyes. "Veronica, what did I just say about interrupting?" She looked sheepish. "Oh, right, sorry. Please continue." "Thank you. No, I was not born in Vault 101. That key fact was the impetus for everything that followed."

So he and Amata talked. Mark started, talking about his parents. Who they were, and the origins of Project Purity. His birth, the death of his mother, and the subsequent abandonment of Project Purity. What he learned of what happened when he and his father arrived at Vault 101 escorted by Star Paladin Cross. He and Amata then talked about the vault. How they were told that the vault had never been opened. "We're born in the vault, we die in the vault." How he and Amata became best friends, despite the animosity between their fathers.

They talked about the other kids. Their wariness of Mark, likely at the direction of their parents. The bullying by Butch and the Tunnel Snakes. How her father attempted to derail any potential romance between the two by having a guard with her at all times. Then came the day that Mark escaped. They both talked about it from their perspectives, with Amata learning that James had left the vault, overhearing her father telling the guards to take Mark in for questioning. How Mark had been woken by Amata, her telling him that his dad had left the vault.

They described the chaos that ensued. Mark seeing Mary and Tom Holden murdered. Alphonse's attempt to beat Amata to learn of Mark's whereabouts, before Mark shot Stevie Mack in the knee and saved her. There were gasps from the group when they heard what Alphonse did, and Abby gave Amata a hug. They talked about when they reached the vault's door, and Mark's promise to Amata that he would return one day.

Mark's shock when he first laid eyes on what had happened to the world. How he found his way to Megaton, amazed that they lived around an active nuclear warhead. His meeting Lucas Simms, Moira Brown, Colin Moriarty, and the others. How he disarmed the bomb under the cover of night, getting him a home in town as a reward. He spoke of Moira Brown's quirkiness, and how he had been enlisted to help her with the Wasteland Survival Guide.

He spoke of the others that he helped, from Lucy West, to the residents of Big Town, to Reilly and her Rangers. How he felt guilty the first time he had to take a life. How the mercenary group, Talon Company, was hired to hunt him down. He spoke of the other vaults that he had encountered, making him realize how fortunate Vault 101 was. He talked about his first foray into downtown DC, which was where he met Sentinel Sarah Lyons and the Brotherhood for the first time. Taking down a super mutant behemoth with a Fat Man.

His first meeting with the energetic Three Dog, who had been the one to first call him the "Lone Wanderer." Getting a new relay dish for the station. Finding Rivet City, and speaking with Dr. Madison Li. Seeing Project Purity for the first time, and learning of Vault 112, which was where his dad was. He explained about the "Tranquility Lane" simulation, and how Dr. Stanislaus Braun had kept the residents in various simulations for two-hundred years, before Mark freed them by killing them.

Releasing his dad, and their journey back to Rivet City and the Jefferson Memorial. Mark's first encounter with the Enclave. When he mentioned the Enclave, he growled and spat out their name venomously. Arcade seemed to tense up when the Enclave was mentioned, but no one seemed to notice. He spoke about seeing his dad die in front of his eyes, sacrificing himself so that Mark and the others would have a chance to escape. His escape through the tunnels, arriving at the Citadel. Being personally trained by Sentinel Lyons.

How he had to find a way to get to Vault 87 through Little Lamplight, and how they would only let him through if he rescued their friends from Paradise Falls. He did so, wiping out Paradise Falls in the process. Going through Vault 87, meeting Fawkes, and learning the vault was where the super mutants were coming from. Getting the G.E.C.K, and subsequently being captured by the Enclave and interrogated at Raven Rock by Colonel Augustus Autumn. How he learned that "President" John Henry Eden was nothing more than a ZAX A.I. that had become self-aware. His subsequent escape and the destruction of Raven Rock, and meeting Fawkes again, who offered to travel with him.

Mark's return to the Citadel with Fawkes in tow. The Battle for Project Purity. Seeing Liberty Prime in action. Realizing that the Rangers had come to help. Reaching the control room, and killing Colonel Autumn. His elation at the fact that they had retaken the facility, only to realize that it had been damaged in the fighting. How he was ready to sacrifice himself so that the work of his mother and father, started over twenty years prior, would finally bear fruit. Amata, even though she had heard it before, shed a few tears at how close he had come to dying.

Amata talked about what happened in the vault during all that time. The few attempts at negotiating with her father. How they listened to the broadcasts of Galaxy News Radio, hearing what it was really like in the outside world, and more importantly, at least to Amata, Mark's exploits, and how they were her only way of knowing that Mark was still alive. Through all of this, Mark played the recordings of Three Dog's radio broadcasts, confirming his stories. The others, especially Abby, got a kick out of Three Dog's broadcast style. One of the more poignant broadcasts was from directly after the Battle for Project Purity:

" _Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, prepare to be astounded, bedazzled, and otherwise stupefied! I am Three Dog, your Master of Ceremonies. Listen up, children, because I have some great news, and some…potentially bad news. First! The good news. Children, I am happy to report that Project Purity has been reclaimed by the good guys. In a combined effort, the Brotherhood of Steel, Reilly's Rangers, and the one and only Lone Wanderer, Mark Franklin, took the facility back from those Enclave bastards not two days ago."_

" _Our buddies in the Brotherhood are cleaning up the mess, and are making plans to distribute the water to the wasteland, although it is currently unknown as to when that will begin."_ Three Dog's voice became less cheery. _"Now, for the potentially bad news. It seems, from the reports that I am receiving, that both Sentinel Sarah Lyons and the Lone Wanderer, Mark Franklin, were both injured, and both are now in a coma. It is unknown how they were injured, but I am told that they are both currently safe, and are being treated inside the Citadel."_

" _Listen, children, I don't care if you believe in god or not, but please pray for them. I know that I am. Losing one, or both, of them would make this victory seem almost hollow."_ He then went back to his upbeat tone. _"Thanks for listening, chiillld-ren. This is Three Dog, OWWWWWWWWWW! And you're listening to Galaxy News Radio! We're Radio Free Wasteland, and we're here, for you."_

"When I heard that," Amata said, after they explained to Abby what a coma was, "I went from elated to disheartened in a matter of seconds, and I think that the mood swing caused me to pass out. The two weeks that he was out were torture for me. Every time that Three Dog came on, I was hoping that he would report that Mark had woken up, but I was also worried that he would say that Mark didn't make it." Mark reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

He then went on to explain about going to Old Olney to get the Tesla Coil. Assaulting Adams Air Force Base, and the destruction of the Mobile Base Crawler. His meeting with the Brotherhood Outcasts, and taking part in the Anchorage simulation. He spoke about blowing up the testing area of Vault 87, and the eradication of the super mutants, save for Fawkes. His travels to the Pitt. It was then that they arrived at the day that Mark had come back to the vault, which, even though everything turned out okay in the end, they were both still a bit ashamed at how they both acted.

(Day of Mark's return to Vault 101)

Mark was in his home in Megaton, sitting at the workbench that was located on the catwalk that overlooked the ground floor. He was performing some routine maintenance on his pip-boy. The fact that pip-boys still operated well two-hundred years after the war was impressive. 'Vault-Tec may have been a bunch of amoral bastards,' he thought, 'but they built things to last.' He had actually started performing the maintenance three days prior, but people needed help around town with various things, and he was happy to oblige.

After dealing with the Enclave, super mutants, and raiders seemingly non-stop, helping Walter perform maintenance on the water pipes in town, or helping Moira work on the distribution network for the Wasteland Survival Guide was downright mundane, and exactly what he needed. Moira did try to rope him in to help with more of her experiments, but he flat-out refused to be a guinea pig anymore. He did take some time to just relax in his home, listening to the radio and having a couple beers. He would also hang out at the Brass Lantern with Jenny Stahl and Billy Creel, swapping stories and enjoying the company.

The delay had meant that his pip-boy had been out of commission for three days. It felt weird not to wear it, but that kind of thing tends to happen when you wear it every day for nearly ten years. He screwed the last screw back in the casing, reactivated it, and put it back on his left arm. He began to put away his tools, when the pip-boy beeped. He glanced at it quickly, went back to the tools, and then did a double-take when he realized that it said a new radio frequency had been found. His interest piqued, he switched over to the list of available radio stations. When he saw one of the stations, he nearly fell out of his chair.

It was the Vault 101 Emergency Frequency. Mark just sat there, stunned. He had heard that it existed, but he doubted that it had ever been used, seeing that since the world got blown to hell, no one from law enforcement or Vault-Tec would actually respond to the call. He found it stupid that they would install an emergency frequency in a vault that was never supposed to reopen once it was shut, but then again, a lot of people seemed to have no common sense, both back then and now.

He highly doubted that Alphonse would use it, given his isolationist and xenophobic tendencies. Eliminating Alphonse, the only other person who would know about it would be- His eyes widened. "Amata." He began to panic. Had something happened to her? He quickly tuned into the frequency and listened to it with bated breath. A robotic voice came on:

" _This is an automated distress message from Vault-Tec: Vault 101. Message begins:"_ It then switched over to a voice that Mark hadn't heard in what felt like forever, a voice that belonged to a person whom Mark was convinced was an angel sent from heaven. A voice that sounded nervous. It was his best friend. It was Amata.

" _Mark, it feels like you left home a long time ago. I know that you're still alive, that you're still out there. For now, let's just chalk it up to faith. Things, they…they've gotten worse since you and your dad left. My dad, I think that he's snapped. I'm feeling like things are about to turn violent, and I'm scared, Mark. I'm running out of options, and without outside intervention, I fear that the worst will come to pass, and the vault will collapse completely. Mark, we need your help._ _ **I**_ _need your help."_

" _If you choose not to come back, I understand, given the way a lot of people treated you, but I know who you are, Mark. At least, I still hope that I do."_ She paused for a moment, and a small sliver of happiness creeped back into her voice. _"Mark, do you- do you remember the game we used to play as kids, where I would be the princess who needed to be rescued from the dragon, and you would be the brave knight who would come and save me? Those were good times, weren't they?"_

" _Well, right now, Mark, I need my brave knight to come and save me again. I changed the door password to my name. I just pray that you still care enough to remember it. Please help me Mark. You're my only hope."_ Amata's voice cut out, and the robotic voice came back on: _"Message repeats-"_ Mark turned it off. He didn't need to hear it again. Despite the seriousness of the message, he chuckled. 'Like I would ever forget her name,' he thought.

He then refocused himself, and went over the message. Apparently, Alphonse had finally gone off the deep end. Mark had figured that it was only a matter of time before he did. He smiled as he reminisced about that game that he and Amata played. Those _were_ some good times. As he sat there, a potential problem sprung up. How long had the message been broadcasting? The frequency hadn't been there when he had taken it off three days ago, at least he didn't think it was, so it had to have occurred between then and now. What if things had already gone south? He needed a better idea of the situation.

"Wadsworth!" Mark called out. The Mr. Handy robot came up the stairs. "You called, sir?" "Wadsworth, you can detect radio frequencies, correct?" Mark asked. "Indeed I can, sir." "Scan for the Vault 101 Emergency Frequency. I need to know how long it has been broadcasting." Wadsworth was still. "Scanning for all frequencies within range…Vault 101 Emergency Frequency detected. It has been running since 9:34 PM, three days ago." Mark nodded. "Thank you, Wadsworth. That will be all." "As you wish, sir."

He thought back. The pip-boy was already off-line by then. His features steeled. There was no choice in the matter. His princess needed to be rescued, and it was his duty as a knight (or paladin, as it were), to rescue her. If the vault had indeed collapsed, then he would get her out of there, and tell the rest of them that they could go to hell.

He went into his bedroom, and donned his Ranger Combat Armor. He checked the clips on his assault rifle and his pistol, and holstered them on his back and right hip, respectively, and then attached a few grenades to his belt. His trench knife was already holstered on his right leg. He grabbed his duffel bag and did a quick inventory of everything that was in there. "Let's see what we have: grenades, check, ammo, check, shotgun, check, sniper rifle, check, food, check, Aqua Pura, check, two stealth boys, check." He looked over the other weapons that he had lined up against the wall, and then decided that what he had would be enough.

The shotgun would suffice for combat in the close quarters of the vault. He hoped that he wouldn't have to use it, but he wouldn't hesitate to use it to protect Amata. He also figured that the food might be used as a peace offering, as he had no idea what the food situation was like right now. He was under no illusions that he would be given a warm welcome home by most of the vault. The only people who likely didn't resent him and his dad were Amata, Mr. Brotch, and Officer Gomez, and the last two were only guesses based on how they had treated him and his dad. He wished that he knew more about the situation, but he would have to work with the information that he had.

"Might I enquire as to where you are going, sir?" Wadsworth asked as Mark headed for the door. "I need to go save my best friend from her evil, psychotic, despot of a father." "Good luck then, sir." Mark nodded and walked out the door. As he reached Megaton's front gate, he ran into Sheriff Simms. "Hey kid, where you headed? Brotherhood need you?" "Not today, Sheriff. My best friend needs me. I'm going back to the vault. I…I'm going home." Simms noticed Mark get a bit emotional. He knew how much that that Amata girl meant to him. He was pretty sure that Mark was in love with her.

"Well, good luck, kid. Hope everything works out for you." "Yeah, so do I, Simms. So do I." The nighttime air was cool as he made his way back towards Vault 101. He climbed up the small hill, and reached the wooden door that he had first walked out of close to two months ago. He then turned and looked over the wasteland, seeing the Washington Monument and Capitol Building in the distance. He thought back to when he had first laid eyes on the wasteland. "Things certainly have changed since then," he said quietly before he turned, opened the wooden door, and went in.

As he approached the vault door, he flashed back to the last time he was here, promising Amata that he would return, and then watching her attempt to stop the guards from tying to shoot him. He sighed, walked over to the control panel, entered 'Amata', and then heard the klaxon going off as the door began to open. He drew his pistol and stood off to the side in case Alphonse decided to send a welcoming party. There was a security camera, but he couldn't remember if it worked or not.

He peeked around the corner as the door slid out of the way. He only saw one guard, and this one guard was the only one he was sure wouldn't shoot him on sight. "Halt! Who goes there?" Mark holstered his pistol and held his hands in the air as he made himself visible. "How's it going, Officer Gomez?" Mark asked, a grin on his face. Gomez was confused. "How do you know who I…" He trailed off, and a look of disbelief came across his face. "Mark? Mark Franklin? Is that you?" "The one and only. Now how about you put down that pistol, and then we can talk."

Gomez holstered his pistol and took off his helmet. "Mark, it's…it's been a while. No wonder you were able to get the door open. You have more experience with it than everyone else down here combined. So, how have you been?" "Eh, okay, I guess." "How's your dad? Did you find him?" Mark's face dropped. "I did, but…he is no longer with us." Gomez frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that, Mark. I figured that if anyone could survive out there, he could. I liked him. I really did."

"Thank you for your sympathy, Officer Gomez, but reporting his death isn't the reason I'm back. Amata sent me a distress message." Gomez's eyes widened. "Amata sent you a message? I'd keep that under your hat, for her sake. She could get in real trouble for that." "Officer Gomez, from what she said, I highly doubt that it could do much more harm. I need to know what's been going on since I left."

Gomez sighed and rubbed his temple. "Where to begin? Between the radroaches and the other guards, we lost a lot of people that night. Since then, we've basically been under martial law. Amata's leading a group, mostly made up of your classmates, plus Mr. Brotch, which Alphonse has deemed "rebels." They want to open the vault up to the outside world permanently. Alphonse, obviously, has tried to nix that idea. They've tried negotiating a couple of times, but they failed miserably."

"It's only gotten worse since then. Alphonse hasn't attempted to use force yet, I'm guessing mainly because of Amata, but I've overheard the other guards saying that they're going to use force without Alphonse's knowledge. Things are coming to a head quickly, and I'm guessing that that's why Amata sent a message to you." Mark stared down Officer Gomez. "Which side are you on, Officer?" "I am on nobody's side. Yes, technically Alphonse can still tell me what to do, but that doesn't mean that I can't find loopholes to subvert his authority. My job is to keep the peace, and that means not favoring one person, or side, over another."

Mark smiled. That's what he had hoped he would say. "That's why I always liked you, Officer Gomez. You always did your job without any bias." He paused. "Where are Amata and the rebels?" "They're holed up in your dad's old clinic. I think it may be symbolic that they're based there, you know, with you and your dad and all that. I assume that you remember the way?" Mark nodded. "Good. I'd go with you, but they're not too thrilled with security at the moment. Technically, I'm supposed to place you under arrest and bring you to Alphonse, but I know better than to try that. Besides, I'm getting _pretty_ forgetful in my old age."

Mark and Officer Gomez shook hands. "Thanks, Officer. I need to get going." Gomez nodded, and Mark made his out of the entryway. Once he was out of sight, he took out one of the stealth boys and activated it. He didn't want to alert too many people of his presence unless it became absolutely necessary. On his way to the clinic, he saw Officer Taylor nearly shoot Freddie Gomez, and he saw Stevie Mack using a cane to help himself walk. Mark smirked. 'Serves you right, you bastard,' he thought.

Before he knew it, he arrived at the stairway that led up to the clinic. He deactivated the stealthy boy. His stomach was in knots as he realized that he was about to see Amata again. Would she like who he had become, a killing machine? He was still the same at heart, but would she recognize that, when she learned that he had taken lives? Mark shook away the doubts. They were best friends. She would understand…hopefully.

He ascended the stairs. Half of the divided hallway was blocked with debris, likely used as cover or as a chokepoint in case fighting broke out. He walked down the unblocked part and turned right. Standing guard outside of the clinic was Butch, playing with that switchblade of his. When Butch first saw Mark, he assumed a defensive stance, but relaxed when he saw who it was. "Franklin? That you?" Mark smiled. "Hey, Butch. Long time no see."

He walked up to Butch, punched him square on the nose, gave him a right uppercut to his stomach, and then grabbed him with both hands on the back his jumpsuit and tossed him down the hallway, past the open door to the clinic. "That was for all the years of torment, Butch. We're even." Butch whimpered as he was barely able to sit up against the wall. Mark then stood in the doorway to the clinic.

It was dirty, with food wrappers and mattresses scattered across the floor. The other kids had stopped what they were doing and stared at him. He scanned the room for Amata, and found her. Standing in the doorway to his dad's old office, surrounded by the light from the office like an angelic vision, was Amata. She stared at him, a look of…something on her face. Mark was unsure what to make of her expression. "Mark?" was all she said. Mark shed a few tears as he smiled at her. "Hey there, princess."

(15 minutes earlier)

Amata was sitting at the desk in what used to be James' office. The rebellion was not turning out the way that she had hoped. She had tried to make her father see that the vault needed to be opened, but to no avail. The "rebels," as her father called them, was made up of her classmates and their former teacher, Edwin Brotch. The Tunnel Snakes were enlisted as security. The clinic was their base of operations, which was done as a symbolic move, seeing as their eyes were opened once James and Mark had left the vault.

Boy, were her eyes opened. Despite all the times that her father told them to the contrary, the vault had indeed been opened before. Multiple times, in fact. Before James and Mark had left, the last time it had been opened was when James and baby Mark came into the vault. She chuckled. Her best friend was a wastelander. No wonder her father actively tried to stop them from having a romantic relationship. He probably thought that Mark would corrupt her.

She looked out the window and into the clinic. The others were either milling about, or lying down. They had taken mattresses from an unused section of the vault, and had taken a month's worth of food for each of them from the food stores. She insisted that they not take any more than they would normally get with their ration coupons. This way, the other residents would still be able to eat. When it became clear that the rebellion would last longer than a month, they had decided to ration it, with her taking the least of it as their leader.

When the rebellion had begun, morale was high. Even when there was little to no progress, hearing what Mark had been doing in the wasteland from Galaxy News Radio kept the morale up. However, as time passed, and as food began to dwindle, not even Mark's adventures could keep everyone happy, and she had had to break up fights on multiple occasions, and Mr. Brotch had been jailed for trying to open the vault's door. With the rebellion on the brink of collapsing, she had thrown up a Hail Mary and sent a message to Mark.

However, it had been three days, and he had yet to respond. Even worse yet, the radio had broken a couple of days ago, so he could be dead for all she knew. He promised that he would come back, didn't he? He always kept his promises. She smiled as she remembered all of the things that he had reportedly done. She listened to the radio closely anytime that Mark was mentioned, which was often. Her best friend had become a bigshot, a hero. She always knew that he was destined for greatness, and she was not wrong.

When she had heard that James had died, she wanted nothing more than to go find Mark and hug him, and tell him that everything would be alright. Then there was that coma that he was in. She was scared out of her mind that he would never wake up, but that worry was all for naught, as he did eventually wake up.

The more that she thought about it, the more she began to think that maybe he didn't want to come back. He was an important man in the wasteland, probably too busy for the simple folk of Vault 101. Based on the way most people had treated him down here, he probably decided to cut ties with the vault completely, but she had held out hope that he would come back for her.

Did he even want to see her again? He was famous and handsome, and probably had all those wasteland girls fawning over him, offering themselves to him. He had probably forgotten all about her. That last thought had made her sick to her stomach. She had always hoped that he would be her first and only romantic partner. She had fantasized about the two of them making love, even more so since the rebellion had begun, when she needed a brief respite. Luckily, she had her own bed in the office, because she had had a few dreams that were a bit… _erotic_ in nature, and she knew that she was prone to talking in her sleep. She blushed when she thought back to them.

Trying to distract herself, she sat up and looked through the notes that had been left on James' computer for the umpteenth time. Apparently, he had never stopped working on Project Purity, using the vault's water systems for testing. She had initially found that a bit irresponsible of him, but then she read that he had safeguards in place so that the main water supply would not be affected. James had also apparently accessed her father's personal computer, learning of something called the "G.E.C.K." Whatever it was, it was important enough for him to leave the vault and leave his son behind.

Project Purity. That all-important machine that James and his wife had started all those years ago, before Mark was born. Abandoned due to no progress, Mark's birth, and Catherine's death. Hearing Three Dog made her realize that all they had had on the surface was irradiated water, and that fresh water was more valuable than gold. She and the others had been lucky to grow up in the vault, where they always had fresh water. That Revelations quote that James had told to Mark repeatedly made more sense than ever. James had left the vault to finally finish his and Catherine's work. To bring the waters of life back to the wasteland. He didn't get to finish it, but fortunately Mark, following in his father's footsteps, did, and now clean water was being delivered to all the communities in the Capital Wasteland.

She looked out of the window again, realizing that there was some sort of commotion, with a man she didn't recognize standing in the doorway. She stood up, opened the door, and stood in the doorway. When she got a better look, her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened. No wonder she didn't recognize him initially. He was in desperate need of a haircut and a shave, had cuts and bruises on his face, and was wearing some type of green armor. The only thing that she did recognize were his eyes.

She only knew one person with blue eyes. It was Mark. He had answered her call. He had returned. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, but all she could say was, "Mark?" He smiled, with tears in his eyes. She started to cry as well. "Hey there, princess." She could not help herself. She broke into a dead sprint towards him, with him dropping his bag moments before she leapt into his arms, her arms wrapping around his neck. Amata's momentum carried them into the hallway. She reveled in his embrace, realizing just how long it had been since she had been able to give him a hug. Mark's thoughts were running along the same line.

The two of them stood in the middle of the hallway, just holding one another. The others in the clinic stood there watching, until Amata, without looking back, kicked the button to close the door. A couple minutes later, Amata broke the silence. "Mark," she said, her voice muffled due to the fact that she buried her face in the crook of his neck, "I missed you." "I missed you too, Amata. You have no idea how wonderful it is to see you again." Amata pulled back to get a better look at him.

He was wearing green armor with the words, "Reilly's Rangers" on it, along with a four-leaf clover behind two crossed swords. She saw his arms, which showed off a nice tan, and had become _very_ muscular. She reached out and touched his right arm, and for a few moments, all coherent thought vanished from her mind. Eventually, she withdrew her hand as she realized what she was doing, and then blushed and looked away. Mark grinned. "I know, impressive, aren't they?"

She slapped him playfully on the arm. "You're an idiot. Listen, Mark, there's something I need to tell you." "I need to tell you something, too," Mark replied. "You first," they both said at the same time. They both laughed. "No, Mark, you go first," Amata said. "Amata, I…I wasn't born in the vault. I was born out there, and was brought in here as a baby. They lied to us, Amata. The vault's been opened before." "I know, Mark. The others and I, we've been-" She was interrupted by a loud crashing sound coming from somewhere deeper in the vault.

Mark immediately drew his pistol and pointed it is the direction of the noise, shoving Amata behind him. He waited a couple of moments, and when nothing else happened, he relaxed. "Mark, we can catch up later. I called you back because I need you to end this. I need you to talk to my dad and convince him to end this craziness. Please, just don't hurt him." Although Mark would like nothing more than to hurt him, that would only complicate things further. "Alright, Amata, I promise to end this, and I won't hurt him unless he attempts to harm me. Even then, I will only try to incapacitate him. Okay?"

After a moment, she nodded. "Good," Mark said. "Can you make sure no one but yourself touches my bag, please? There are things in there that you and the others wouldn't know how to handle. There is food and water in there if you want it, however. I didn't know what the food situation was like, so I brought some." "Thank you, Mark, and yes, of course I'll watch it," she replied. She then gave him a brief kiss on the cheek. "Good luck, Mark. I'll be waiting." He gave her another hug, and then headed off towards the Overseer's office.

Once he was out of sight, Amata looked down the hallway and saw Butch sitting against the wall, holding his nose and crying a little. Amata rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't be a baby, Butch. I'm guessing that Mark did that, and considering all the shit that you did to him, I think that you got off easy." She then headed back into the clinic to make sure nobody touched Mark's bag.

Once Mark was out of Amata's sight, he reactivated the stealth boy, and made his way through Vault 101 unseen. The stealth boy was nearly out of juice, so he hoped that he could make it to Alphonse's office before it ran out. He did reach the office, noting that it was empty. The stealth boy finally ran out of power, making him visible again. He took it off and tossed it away. He went to the computer, reading Alphonse's thoughts on what was happening. He downloaded a couple of files and then wiped them off the vault's servers. He then sat back in the chair, propped his feet up on the desk, and waited for Alphonse to return.

It was about ten minutes later when Alphonse appeared in the doorway, a smug look on his face. Mark sat there, tossing a grenade back and forth, acting like he didn't have a care in the world. "Hello, Alphonse. It's been a while." "Well, well, I see you've returned. Done with the dust and ruins of the wasteland, are you? Given up looking for daddy? Thought you could sneak back in, like a teen missing curfew? Well, that's too bad. You have no future in this vault. You're tainted. And that's Overseer to you, you insolent brat."

"No, I won't call you that anymore. I called you that out of respect, but you lost what little respect I had for you when you ordered Stevie Mack to assault your own daughter. That's low, even for you." Alphonse shifted uneasily. "I needed information. I did it for the good of the vault." Mark chuckled. "You know, you've said that so many times over the years, I don't think that you even know what it means anymore. Besides, I was already tainted, and so was my dad, yet you let us in here anyway."

"According to your files," Mark said, lazily waving a hand towards the computer, "that wasn't even the first time that the vault door had been opened. The Overseer before you sent a few expeditions outside. There was the survey team led by Anne Palmer, and Lewis and Agnes Taylor actually lived in Megaton for a while." Alphonse scoffed. "That fool that preceded me got himself killed, and he deserved it for straying from the vault's experiment."

"Yes, Vault 101's _experiment_ ," Mark said sarcastically. "To stay closed indefinitely, to study the role of the Overseer when a vault never opened. Yet, it was opened multiple times, once by you, in violation of a mandate that you supposedly champion. Well, I've got some bad news for you, Alphonse: Vault-Tec doesn't exist anymore, hasn't since the bombs fell, and no one out there gives a shit about whether you keep the vault opened or closed. And if you don't tell those security guards on either side of the door to back off, I will kill them. Do not test me. I have killed a number of unholy terrors out in the wastes, so your lackeys don't scare me in any way, shape, or form, and killing them would be child's play."

Alphonse seemed a bit startled that Mark could easily sense them, but quickly regained his composure. "You wouldn't dare. What would Amata think?" He smirked, thinking he had won. Mark laughed. "Is that the best you can do, Alphonse? Trying to make me feel guilty? That may have worked when I was younger, but not now. I've grown up, Alphonse. Seeing as I would only kill them in self-defense, I think that she'd be fine with it. I promised her that I wouldn't hurt _you_ , but your guards are fair game." He paused for a moment. "Since you played the guilt trip game, let me have a go. What would your daughter think if you had security try to kill her best friend, one who had _just_ come back into her life after being all alone out in the harsh, harsh wasteland?"

Mark acted like he came to a sudden realization. "Oh wait, that's right! You've already had security try to kill me, the day I had to leave this damn place! You know, Amata has confided in me over the years that she felt like you were pushing her away. And lo and behold, you admitted, in your own notes, no less, that through your own actions, you have indeed been pushing her away. What do you think attacking me _again_ will do? Why, that may just completely drive her away from you and right into my comforting arms. So go ahead, Alphonse. Have them attack me. **I** **DARE YOU!** "

Mark glared at Alphonse, who finally realized that Mark wasn't bluffing. Alphonse reluctantly told the officers to stand down. "Wonderful," Mark said. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, the vault's ingenious experiment. Tell me, Alphonse, how many people died the day my dad and I left?" "Too many, thanks to you and your traitor of a father. I let him in here out of the goodness of my heart, and this is how am I repaid for that kindness. With anarchy."

"Thirteen people died that night, Alphonse, according to your records. Thirteen. If you count me and my dad leaving, that brings the total to fifteen people who are unable or unwilling to procreate to help the vault continue to operate as it has been. The vault's population had already declined significantly in the two centuries since the war, and then you lost all those people in one fell swoop. Without any new blood, the remainder of the vault's citizens will eventually have to resort to incest to continue repopulating. If you keep deluding yourself that the vault can continue as it is indefinitely, then its collapse is inevitable."

Mark stood up. "Your lies and your deception are the cause of all this chaos. They are the reason that the other kids, including your own daughter, are rebelling against you. The vault needs to be opened to the world. End this madness, Alphonse. The vault can thrive again, but not under your brand of leadership. You kept telling us that everything that you've ever done is for the good of the vault. If you truly believe that, then for the good of the vault, you need to step down. You and I both know who needs to be put in charge."

The two of them stared each other down, before Alphonse sighed and hung his head. He seemed to age before Mark's eyes. "You're right. This whole situation is of my own doing. I need to make an announcement." He walked around Mark, who eyed him warily, and to the computer system behind the desk that operated as the vault's command center. He pressed a button and spoke into a speaker.

"Attention," Alphonse said, his voice resonating throughout the vault, "this is the Overseer. All security personnel are to stand down immediately. Failure to do so will result in disciplinary action." He finished and looked back at Mark. "I believe that we need to go speak with the rebels." Mark nodded. "Yes, Alphonse, yes we do."

(20 minutes earlier)

Amata walked back into the clinic, hopeful that Mark would be able to convince her dad to stand down. Maybe then, she and her dad could reconcile, and Mark could come back to the vault, and the two of them could finally be together. She smiled brightly at that. She was broken out of her daze when she found Wally Mack going through Mark's bag. "Wally! What the hell are you doing?" Wally was startled when he heard Amata's voice. "What? I just want to see what the dink has in his bag."

He pulled out the shotgun. "Ha!" Wally exclaimed as the others looked on. "Now here's some serious firepower." He looked down the sights before Amata ripped it out of his hands and put it back in the bag and zipped it up. "What is the matter with you, you idiot?! Firstly, do **not** touch Mark's stuff! Secondly, you don't even know if the gun's loaded! You could seriously hurt someone!" "Geez, Amata, lay off! If Franklin can use it, I'm sure that I could use it no problem," Wally said, supremely confident of himself. Amata rolled her eyes at Wally's stupidity.

"Wally, you've never even handled a pistol before! If you paid attention to Mr. Brotch in class when we went over the different types of weapons, you would know that you would have to brace for recoil, and that a shotgun is more powerful than a pistol, and lethal in close quarters. And in case you've forgotten, we are in _very_ close quarters!" She glared at Wally and the others. "No one is to touch this bag! Is that clear?" She said commandingly. She wasn't the leader of the rebellion for no reason. She knew how to take charge of a situation.

She got nods from the others, while Wally just scowled and walked away. She moved the bag against the wall where she could see it from her office, and then went back into the office, shut the door, and sat down. She massaged her temple with her hands. Wally had been a constant source of problems for her. Whenever Three Dog had reported something that Mark had done, Wally would always say that he could've done whatever it was just as well, if not better than Mark could've. In reality, he would've probably pissed his pants and then started crying like a baby. Amata figured that if he had left the vault like Mark had, he would've been killed before he saw his first sunrise. On multiple occasions, it took all her willpower not to knock him out.

He had gotten that "I'm better than everyone" attitude from his father. Allen Mack was always complaining to the others that he should be the Overseer, and Stevie Mack nearly assaulted her on the orders of her father. Thankfully, that attitude only resided with the males in that family, because Allen's wife Gloria, and their daughter, Susie, were decent people. Susie hadn't been the closest with Amata growing up, but she had become something of a confidante to Amata during the standoff.

Not wanting to think about Wally anymore, her thoughts went back to the scene that had just played out with Mark. Mark had returned, looking much different than when he had left. Not that that was a bad thing, in her opinion. The scars, the goatee, his muscles, not to mention the armor and weapons, made Mark look more handsome, and more mature, and more…rugged. His scent had changed, too. She couldn't identify exactly _what_ he smelled like, but it was very manly. Once this standoff was over, she wouldn't have to fantasize about Mark anymore, because she would have the real thing, and if her father didn't like it, that would be his own problem.

Her thoughts then turned to what was going to happen once the standoff ended. In her mind, it was a foregone conclusion that Mark would end the standoff, hopefully peacefully. In any event, new leadership would be needed, and thanks to the G.O.A.T., she was next in line for the position of Overseer. There would be so many things to do. Cleaning up the vault, reorganizing the security force, and establishing trade with the outside world, among other things. She was sure that Mark would be glad to help with the trade part.

More of an immediate concern would be to heal a vault that was currently very fractured. 'It will be tough,' she thought, 'but with Mark at my side-' That train of thought suddenly came to a screeching halt. She realized something, something she wished that she hadn't. If Mark was here, the vault wouldn't heal, because he and James were viewed by many as having created this situation in the first place. She didn't blame Mark or his dad, of course. The lies were bound to come out some time. The vault had essentially been a powder keg. Mark and his dad had simply been the spark that lit the fuse.

It looked like any attempts to claim Mark as her own were going to have to wait. She was going to have to ask Mark to leave the vault. Again. She was going to have to exile her best friend. He would understand, wouldn't he? That it was for the good of the vault? It wasn't like Mark didn't have anywhere else to go. He had that house in Megaton. She groaned and put her head on the desk. Sometimes she really hated her life.

—

The walk back to the clinic was awkward for both Mark and Alphonse, as neither of them had said anything to the other since they left Alphonse's office. Once they reached the clinic, Alphonse took a couple of steps in, while Mark moved off to the side. He searched for Amata, who was standing near the door to the clinic's office. He caught her eye, and gave her a thumbs up. She gave him a quick nod, and then stiffened her posture as she stared at her father.

"Could I have your attention, please?" Alphonse said. It was an unnecessary question, as the room had gone quiet when he entered. He cleared his throat, and Mark saw that he was avoiding eye contact with Amata. "It has been brought to my attention that I have not been acting in the best interests of the vault. Therefore, effective immediately, I am stepping down as Overseer, and naming Amata as my replacement." There were gasps of shock. "Thank you. That will be all."

Alphonse walked out, leaving everyone but Mark in a shocked silence. Mark, a slightly amused look on his face, broke the silence. "All hail the Overseer! Long may she reign!" he proclaimed, and then began to clap. That broke everyone out of their shocked states, and they looked at Amata and started to clap as well. Mark then walked over to Amata and gave her a hug. "You did it, Mark," she said, pride evident in her voice, "you actually did it." Mark smiled. "Of course I did. I promised, didn't I?" "And you always keep your promises," Amata said, with a smile that seemed a bit forced, although Mark didn't notice.

"This is great, Amata! The vault finally has a real leader." She didn't say anything as she looked at him. "Amata, are you okay?" he asked, concerned. "What? Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…" She trailed off. "It's just what?" Mark asked. Amata sighed. "Mark, you're a hero…and you have to leave."

(Present Day)

They then explained what happened in the week that followed, Amata leaving the vault to find Mark, her journey to the Citadel, their eventual reconciliation, and their settlement in Goodsprings. "…so then I was shot in the head, was in a coma for a week, tracked down Benny, made a few new friends along the way, and, well, you guys pretty much know the rest. That is our story."

At one point during the explanation, Abby had transferred over to Mark. The others were sitting in a shocked silence, until- "A book?" Arcade asked. "You seriously wrote a book?" Mark and Amata both laughed. Of course Arcade would ask about the book. "Seriously, Arcade?" Veronica said. "Out of everything that they just said, the thing that you find most amazing is the fact that he wrote a book?"

"Hey, I am always on the lookout for a good read. I'm actually surprised that the NCR hasn't done anything like that." "Well," Mark said, "I doubt that the NCR has anyone as unique as Moira Brown. And technically, she wrote it. I just did all of the research." "Mark, when we get back to the 38, do you think that I would be able to peruse that book?" Arcade asked. Mark looked through his bag, took out the book, and tossed it on the table in front of Arcade. "There you go, Arcade. The first-ever copy of the Wasteland Survival Guide. You can keep it. Amata and I know it front-to-back by this point. Moira actually personalized it on the front inside cover." Arcade opened he book and read the inscription aloud:

" _To my number one research assistant and favorite vault dweller. This wouldn't have been possible without you. You have helped fulfill one of my dreams, and I will be forever grateful. For all your hard work, you get the very first copy. I think the next book I write will be your biography."_ Arcade paused, seemingly confused about what was written next. _"Oh, and I've found a new way to prepare radroach meat. It no longer tastes like feet. Isn't that great? Thanks again, and let me know if your spleen ever gets taken out. I have some tests I want to run._

 _Signed,_

 _Moira Esmerelda Brown"_

At the confused looks on everyone's faces, Mark and Amata both burst out laughing, and Abby started laughing as well. "Wait, what that about your…your spleen?" Arcade asked. "Oh, it's nothing. Just based on something that she told me once. Her thoughts become disjointed sometimes, and she'll go off on some tangent. She was just kidding about the spleen thing. At least, I think she was kidding. Kinda hard to tell with her." Mark looked down at Abby. "Sweetheart, are you doing okay? I know that some of that stuff sounded scary. Trust me, it was scary for me as well."

She looked at him, adoration in her eyes. "You really did all of that stuff, daddy?" "Yeah, sweetheart, I did. It was hard, but it was worth it in the end. I met a lot of good people, made a few good friends, not unlike what's happened out here." "Do you…do you miss your daddy?" Mark hugged her tightly, and a few tears escaped his eyes. "Everyday, sweetheart, but I know that he and my mom are watching over me." Abby gave Mark a kiss on the cheek. "I love you, daddy." "I love you too, sweetheart." He gave Abby a kiss on the top of her head.

"Mark," Christine said after a few moments, "there was really a giant robot?" "Yup. Liberty Prime. Destroyer of barriers, vertibirds, and, well, anything else that gets in his way. Last I heard, he was in the process of being rebuilt." "So, Mark, you were really resigned to the fact that you thought you were going to die in that purifier?" Veronica asked. Mark nodded. "Yeah, I was, but I considered it a small price to pay so that the rest of the Capital Wasteland could have clean water." "And instead of dying, you got the radiation resistance of a ghoul. If that's not luck, then I don't know what is."

She shook her head in disbelief. "So, why didn't you join the Brotherhood when they offered? Most would consider that an honor." "Veronica, it was nothing against the Brotherhood. I respected Sentinel Lyons and Elder Lyons, and I respected their mission, but I realized that if I joined, I would be subject to a chain of command, and I thought that my skills could be put to better use if I was able to operate outside the chain of command." Veronica nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"Well," Cass said. "Ya'll have definitely lived some interestin' lives, that's fer sure. So 'Mata, ya just left tha vault, went all tha way ta Megaton without so much as an escort? Seems kinda foolish ta me, seein' as ya had never been outside before." "Yes, Cass, I know that any number of things could have happened, but I believed that Mark was worth the risk. You call it foolish, while I like to think of it as a leap of faith, one that ultimately paid off in the end." "Eh, ya may have a point. So, uh, who'd ya leave in charge a tha vault?" "Officer Gomez. He was the only one that I could trust to not abuse the power."

"Mark." Mark looked over at Boone. "Yeah Boone?" "You're a hell of a warrior. I could see it in your eyes in Novac, that you had seen war. Although I didn't know that that included a simulation about war. I have a whole new level of respect for you." "Thank you, Boone." Mark then looked at Sarah. "Sarah, how about you? Was there anything that you wanted to ask?"

"Umm, no, not really, but I would just like to say something." She paused for a moment. "Mark, you are incredible. You saw horrible things, things that would drive people insane, and yet you are still a kind-hearted person. You are an amazing human being, and I am glad that you survived all of that, so that I would be able to meet you."

"Thank you, Sarah, but honestly, I'm nothing special. People call me a hero, a legend, a savior. The Lone Wanderer. The Courier. The truth is, I'm just Mark Franklin. I am the proud son of James and Catherine Franklin, husband of Amata Franklin, and father to one, soon to be two kids. I'm just a guy who probably should have done better in class, and whose best friend growing up was a girl, when the other boys thought girls were icky and gross. I never wanted any of the accolades, or the fame and everything that came along with it. I just wanted to find my dad, so I could ask him why he left without telling me. Everything else just kind of happened."

"Would you do it again, Mark, knowing what you know now?" Veronica asked. Mark thought for a few moments, and then nodded. "Yes, I would. It was hard, but a lot of good came out of it in the end." "What about you, Amata? If you had a chance to do it over again, would you have stayed, or would you have gone with Mark?"

"You know," Amata said, "Mark had asked me that at one point when we were still in Goodsprings. As much as I wanted to be with him, I think it was better that I stayed in the vault. There was going to be a rebellion whether I was there or not, and without me there, my father would not have been as hesitant to use force to end it, and while some of our classmates were jerks, I wouldn't want them to get hurt." "And while I would've loved to have her with me," Mark said, "once I saw how dangerous the wastes actually were, it put my mind at ease that she was safe in the vault. It was one less thing for me to worry about. Now, I'm not saying that she would've been a liability, or that she wouldn't have been able to look after herself. Far from it, in fact. It was just easier and less cumbersome traveling by myself."

"Amata," Arcade said, "I applaud you for fighting to bring about change against an unjust regime. I believe that it was Marquis de Lafayette who said, "Insurrection is the most sacred of rights, and the most indispensable of duties." You are a true revolutionary." "Thank you, Arcade, but the rebellion wouldn't have succeeded without Mark coming back. I barely held it together."

Arcade shook his head. "It matters not. The Americans might not have gained their independence from Great Britain without the assistance of the French. All great leaders throughout history have faced adversity. Asking for help when you need it is not a sign of failure on your part; it just means that you realize that you don't have all the answers. Thinking that you do have all the answers has been many a leader's downfall, including your father, from what it sounds like. Despite your struggles, you kept it going. Mark simply brought it over the finish line."

Silence permeated the room as everyone digested what had been said. "So, is that it?" Veronica asked. Mark and Amata grinned at each other. "Well," Mark said, "there is one thing we left out. It's kind of unbelievable _. Out of this world_ , you might say." Amata rolled her eyes. Veronica raised an eyebrow. "After everything that we just heard, I highly doubt anything else that you tell us would be unbelievable." Mark smiled at her. "Yeah, you hold on to that thought. But before I go any further, I just have one question for all of you." He paused for dramatic effect.

"Do you believe in aliens?"

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Obviously, the message that Amata sends to Mark is different from what it was in the game, as with the radio, she knows that Mark is alive, and that James is dead. I also felt that the message needed to be a bit more personal. Next chapter, we make a visit to Mothership Zeta, and the group begins to plan for the future in a post-House New Vegas. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**


	57. Chapter 57: Trust Issues

**Author's Note: Hello everyone! I hope you are all doing well. At the end of the previous chapter, I said that they would visit Mothership Zeta and start planning for the future. That actually won't take place until the chapter after this one. I intended that to take place in this chapter, but once I started writing this one, I decided to add something that I didn't initially plan on. Hey, it happens. I also apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out. Working 40 hours a week during the holidays severely cut down on my writing time. Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**

"I'm sorry, Mark, did you just say aliens?" Veronica asked. Mark nodded. "I did." "Daddy, what are aliens?" Abby queried. Mark was silent for a moment as he thought how to answer that question. "Well, Abby, do you know what a planet is?" Mark asked before he attempted to answer her. Abby nodded. "Good. Do you know the name of the planet we live on?" "It's called, um, Earth, right?" Mark gave her a kiss. "Yes, sweetheart, it is called Earth."

"Before the war, people believed that there was life on other planets aside from our own. I tend to believe that as well, because if the universe is as infinite as they say, then I doubt that Earth is the only planet able to sustain life. People also believed that beings from other worlds, or aliens, as they are called, have visited Earth before. People even claimed that they were abducted and brought aboard alien spaceships, although no one ever had any definitive proof, so they were dismissed as crazies."

"Mark," Arcade said, "this whole conversation is leading me to think that you claim to have met an alien. Am I correct in that assumption?" "Not only am I claiming to have met aliens, I am saying that I was abducted by aliens, fought an epic battle against aliens with other abductees, including pre-war soldiers, a cowboy, and a samurai, and that I am now in command of an alien spacecraft that is currently hovering miles above Earth's atmosphere."

Everyone besides Amata and Abby looked at him like he was crazy, and Mark didn't really blame them. He would've found it hard to believe as well. He just sat there, a knowing smirk on his face. "Mark," Christine said after a few moments, "I think you've gone insane." "Yeah," Cass added, "I believe ya did all that other stuff, but aliens? Seriously? I think those bullets affected yer brain more than ya thought."

Cass then looked at Amata. "'Mata, he's jokin', right?" Amata smiled and shook her head. "He's not joking, Cass. There really is an alien spaceship orbiting the earth. I've gone up with him a few times. It's quite nice, actually, and you wouldn't _believe_ the view." Arcade then jumped in. "Maybe…maybe some evidence would clear this up?" he said, an interested look on his face. Mark nodded. "I agree, Arcade. Allow me to present some." He leaned over, went into his bag, and pulled out the metal briefcase. He then stood up, moved the projector over to the side, and then put the briefcase down flat on the table.

He then put a hand flat against the case. To everyone's shock, sans Amata, a blue light traversed the surface of the briefcase, until it reached Mark's hand, then went over his hand and partway up his arm, and then went back down, and receded into nothingness. Then a feminine voice emanated from the briefcase. "Identity confirmed: Franklin, Mark. Captain, Starship Zeta. Welcome back, Captain."

The case then popped open, and then he turned it around to show the others, who looked on in shock. The briefcase was cushioned, and laid on the cushioning was a weapon that was about the length of a rifle. The entire body was a metallic grey, with glowing blue lines running across a small part of the top of the weapon. It lacked a trigger guard, and the barrel was long and thin at the end.

Mark grinned at their astonished faces. "I present to you, Emergency Weapon Number One." Everyone closed in around the end of the table to get a better look. Christine reached in to grab it, but Mark yanked the case away. "Uh, uh. We look with our eyes, not with our hands." Christine withdrew her hand, and Mark put the case back on the table. "Dear lord!" Arcade exclaimed. "I have definitely never seen anything like that before." "Neither have I," Veronica said. She looked at Mark. "Mark, I apologize. You were right. This is unbelievable. That…that really is an alien weapon! I have so many questions! What is it made of? How does it work? What kind of ammunition does it use? What kind of…"

Mark interrupted her. "Veronica, calm down. All of your questions will be answered, but you need to take a breath, and give me a chance to answer them." "Sorry, Mark. It's just…this is one of the greatest finds in history! A weapon that is not of this world!" Abby had to stand on a chair to get a better look. "That is so cool!" the young girl exclaimed. Mark smiled. "I know, Abby, right?" "Well, I'll be damned," Cass said. "That is one badass lookin' weapon. Looks like it could do a lotta damage." "Trust me, Cass, you are absolutely correct on that part."

"Mark," Veronica said, looking like a child on Christmas morning, "could we um, possibly get a demonstration?" "Yes, I too would like to see how this works," Arcade added. "I will," Mark said, "but not here. Close quarters, someone else could walk in, and I don't want to wreck the vault." "I appreciate that, Mark. Thank you," Sarah said. "You're welcome, Sarah."

"Mark," Christine said, as Mark returned his gaze to her, "this…this needs to be turned over to the Brotherhood." The room went deathly silent at that, and Veronica got a panicked look on her face and started glancing worriedly between Mark and Christine. "Amata, babe," Mark said, his voice neutral and his gaze not diverting from Christine, "would you be a dear and take Abby for a walk, please?" Amata had a feeling as to why he was asking her to do that, so she got up grabbed Abby's hand. "Come on, sweetheart, we're going to go take a walk." "Aww, why? I wanna stay and look at the weapon some more!"

"You can look at it anytime you want. I want to show you some pictures." Amata gave a questioning look to Sarah, who understood what Amata wanted, and nodded. Amata nodded back, and dragged a complaining Abby out of the room, closing the door behind them. Once they left, Mark squared his body up Christine, and stared her down. "Christine, the DC chapter doesn't even know about this, and I like them. So please, enlighten me as to why I should turn it over to your chapter when, as my dear wife stated earlier today, they are a bunch of idiots."

"Mark, this tech is dangerous. This is the exact reason that the Brotherhood was created. This needs to be in responsible hands." Mark took a step towards Christine, forcing Christine to back up, only to realize that there was a wall behind her. Her claustrophobia started to kick in from a combination of Mark's proximity and the suffocating aura that he was projecting. "So, you're saying that I'm not responsible enough? That the Brotherhood are the only ones responsible enough to hold something like this?" "N…no, Mark, that-that's n-not what I meant, it's just…"

Mark cut her off. "You see, this is the problem with the Brotherhood out here. They claim to collect technology to prevent the Great War from happening again. On its surface, that appears to be a noble goal. Humanity barely survived, and another war like that could wipe out humanity completely. The problem is, that goal is a fallacy. All the damage in the Great War was done by nuclear warheads. Every country that had one likely fired every nuclear missile in its arsenal. The Great War can't happen again."

"I realized that when I learned the Brotherhood's history. It made me appreciate what Elder Lyons had done, disregarding his given orders, even more than I already had. This weapon alone cannot start a war." He paused. "When Amata and I came to the Mojave, the first person out here to mention the Brotherhood at all was Veronica. The people out here barely know that you exist. You guys hide in a bunker, waiting for everyone else to die, when in reality, the Brotherhood's end will come much, much sooner."

"You know, the old U.S. Constitution gave people the right to bear arms to protect themselves. Tell me, how does taking away a laser pistol when it is a man's only means of protecting his family help stop some hypothetical future war? I'll tell you how: It doesn't. Elder Lyons told me that shortly after he arrived in DC, he had a moment of clarity. He foresaw the path that the Brotherhood was on. If all they continued to do was collect tech and limit membership, they would be hated, and then they would just disappear like dust in the wind."

"There is a saying: "Adapt or die." Your chapter, and the one at Lost Hills, they are slowly rotting away. Meanwhile, the DC chapter is thriving. When I left, they had more people wanting to join them than they knew what to do with. The Brotherhood are not the law of the wasteland, nor its moral compass. Just because they claim to know what's best, does not mean that they actually do. It was the same thing with Colonel Autumn and President Eden. They tried to assert authority that they didn't really have." Mark then took a step back and rubbed his eyes, and then continued to speak, albeit in a much gentler tone of voice.

"Look, Christine, I get it. You were born into the Brotherhood, indoctrinated with all their beliefs, and you only know one way of doing things. It was kind of the same for me and Amata growing up in the vault, when we were told that it had never been opened and that the wastes were uninhabitable. The thing is, mindlessly following orders, never questioning them, never thinking for yourself, those are things that happen in a cult."

"Hey! The Brotherhood is not a cult!" Christine exclaimed. Mark raised his hands in a pacifying manner. "Hey, calm down. I never said they were. Just that they exhibit tendencies that one would find in a cult." Veronica jumped in. "Actually, Christine, he may have a point. Remember what we were taught? If it's in the Codex, we have to abide by it, and if it's not, it isn't important? And the Chain That Binds? "An order from a superior must always be obeyed, that their wisdom may be carried out without hesitation." I was never a big fan of that."

"Veronica! You're agreeing with him?" Christine said incredulously. Veronica rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't act so surprised. You've known me for years, and you know how I feel. Besides, if you'll recall, I'm not one of them anymore, so I no longer care about their rules or what they may think of me." Mark jumped back in. "Look, Christine, I just think that you need to learn to think for yourself, instead of automatically toeing the party line. Veronica thinks for herself, and based on what I've learned, pretty much always has. So now, instead of watching them die, she is free from rules and restrictions that were written as a knee-jerk reaction to the Great War."

"Christine, I'm not going to give you any ultimatums about choosing between them or us. I just want you to understand that the Brotherhood's way is not always the best way. All of us come from different backgrounds, whether it be vault dwellers, Brotherhood, Followers, or NCR, and we all have our own views on different things, including technology. We may not agree with each other's opinions, but we at least have to respect them, because we are a team. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" After a couple of moments, she nodded. "Wonderful," Mark said.

"Uh, Mark," came Arcade's voice from behind him, "would it be possible to, you know, um…" "You want to visit the alien ship, don't you, Arcade?" He nodded vigorously. "Very much so, yes." "Well, you are in luck, because as soon as Amata gets back, we will." After a minute or two of awkward silence, the door opened, and Amata came in, holding Abby, who seemed to be nodding off. "Mark, I'm guessing that you were planning on going up to the ship tonight, but it's late, and Abby is about ready to fall asleep."

"I'm not tired," Abby said tiredly, barely keeping her eyes open as she laid her head on Amata's shoulder. "I wanna see the aliens…" Mark checked his pip-boy. It was close to her bedtime. "And you will, Abby, but tomorrow," Mark said. "Trust me, they're not going anywhere." "Ok, daddy," Abby said weakly before closing her eyes, sleep having finally claimed her. After smiling at the sight of Amata holding a sleeping Abby for a moment, Mark said, "Sorry guys. This'll have to wait until tomorrow."

That garnered groans of disappointment, most noticeably from Arcade and Veronica. "Hey," Mark said defensively, "I want her to see it, and seeing as she is already asleep, it isn't going to happen tonight. So no complaining, or no one will get to see it." That quieted everyone fairly quickly. "Good. I'm heading back to the 38 with Amata. You guys are free to do whatever you want." He headed for the door when he remembered something. He turned back around and faced Sarah.

"Sarah, there is one more thing that I need to tell you, and it cannot leave this room. Actually, everything that I've said here today cannot leave this room, but this last bit of information especially. Ok?" Sarah looked confused and interested at the same time. "Uh, sure, Mark, no problem. I'm pretty good at keeping secrets. Go ahead." "Sarah…Mr. House is dead." At that, Sarah looked shocked. "Wait, House is dead? How? Why?" "It's a long story, Sarah, but in summation, House is dead, I'm more or less running Vegas now, and you can keep all of the caps that you make. You are family, and I'm not charging you rent, or whatever House called it."

Sarah looked at Amata. "Is he serious?" Amata nodded as she rubbed Abby's back gently. "Yup. Everything he said is true. Especially that last part. I'm sure the casinos make more than enough to cover what we would lose from what you would pay." "You could at least tell me why you killed him," Sarah said, returning her attention to Mark. "He threatened people that I care about. It's as simple as that." Sarah chuckled.

"So, do you just enjoy knocking down people in power? Because from what you told us, you seem to do that a lot." Mark shrugged. "I only strive to stop abuses of perceived power. House, Eden, Autumn, all dead, Amata's father, deposed. They're no longer in power, and everyone is better off for it. Caesar is next on my list." Mark then yawned. "Ok, I'm getting pretty tired. Goodnight, Sarah."

A short while later, they were back at the Lucky 38. "Anyone wanna join me fer a nightcap?" Cass asked as they stepped off the elevator. "Yeah, I'll join you," Veronica said. "Me too," Christine added. "What about you, doc?" "Yeah," Arcade said, "I'll pass. I want to get started on this book." "Captain? Boone?" Boone shook his head and headed towards his room. "I'll pass as well, Cass. I think I'll turn in early tonight," Mark said. "Eh, yer loss. Come on ladies, the whiskey awaits!" Cass proclaimed as they headed towards the game room.

Mark and Amata made their way into Abby's room. Amata laid her on the bed, took off her shoes and socks, and tucked her in. Mark grabbed the teddy bear that was on the ground and put it next to Abby, who unconsciously grabbed it and snuggled up to it, making Mark and Amata smile. They each gave her a kiss and then left the room.

Once they were in their own room, Mark plopped on one of the couches, Amata joining him. "Today was fucking exhausting," he said. "Tell me about it," Amata replied as she laid her head on Mark's shoulder. "But it also feels a bit cathartic, doesn't it? Now that they all know the truth?" Mark thought it over. "Yeah, you're right. I do feel like a weight has been lifted."

"You know what this feels like? It feels like that first morning we had in Goodsprings. I woke up and saw you next to me, and after admiring your beauty for a few minutes, I realized that- that we were free. Back in DC, I was the Lone Wanderer, and you were the Overseer's daughter. People had expectations for us. But out here, we were just Mark and Amata, two people looking for a place to settle down. No one expected anything of us, and it was great." Amata smiled. "You're right. It feels just like that. When I woke up in your arms, and not in a vault, it felt so wonderful."

They then lapsed into a comfortable silence. "You know," Amata said after a minute or so, "I'm surprised that Abby was able to handle all of that so well. I thought it was a mistake, but I guess that I was wrong." Mark gave her a kiss. "Well, she is a strong girl. It's something that you and she have in common."

A short while later, they were both in bed, Amata snuggled up to Mark, her head on his chest. "So, what are your plans for tomorrow, you know, besides going up to the ship?" Amata asked. "Well, I need to have a chat with Yes Man, see what House had planned for Vegas and the Mojave, go through any other relevant data, and probably just lounge around for a bit. I think that I deserve to have an easy day." "Sounds like a plan to me," Amata said. She gave him a kiss. "Goodnight, Mark. I love you." "Love you too, Amata. Goodnight." Mark turned off his bedside lamp, leaving the moonlight as the only source of light in the room.

At one point during the night, Mark opened his eyes to see the silhouette of someone very short near his side of the bed. Knowing that he would have been alerted to an intruder, and only knowing one person who was that short, he fought down his fighting instincts and turned on the lamp on his nightstand. Abby was standing there, holding her teddy bear, a slight frown on her face. "Abby, are you alright?" he asked as he sat up.

"I had a bad dream. Can I sleep with you guys tonight?" It was then that Amata woke up as well. "Mark, what's going on?" she asked groggily as she sat up and covered herself with the blanket. She then saw Abby, and became concerned. "Abby, are you alright? Are you sick? Are you hurt?" "She said she had a bad dream, babe. She wants to sleep with us tonight." "Of course you can sleep with us tonight, sweetheart." Amata said. "I just need you to turn around for a few seconds."

Abby did as she asked, and then Amata went over to the dresser and grabbed a shirt for herself and put it on. She also tossed a shirt over to Mark, who put his on as well. "Ok, Abby. You can turn around." She did, and then Mark picked her up and put her in between himself and Amata, and covered her with the blanket. "Did you want to talk about your dream, Abby?" Mark asked.

Abby shook her head. "Are you sure, Abby?" Amata asked. The young girl nodded. "Ok, sweetheart, but if you ever want to talk about it, just let us know, okay?" "Okay, mommy." Amata gave Abby a kiss on the cheek, as did Mark, and then Mark did as well, both of them saying goodnight. "Goodnight mommy, goodnight daddy," Abby said as Mark turned off the light.

The next morning, Mark opened his eyes and looked to his right, seeing both Abby and Amata sleeping peacefully. Abby had an arm wrapped around her teddy bear, and Amata had an arm wrapped around Abby. He smiled as he looked at the two of them. It was moments like this that reminded him of what he was fighting for. To keep them safe, so that there would be plenty more of these moments in the future.

After watching them for a few minutes, he checked the time on his pip-boy: 7:23 AM. After debating with himself for a moment or two, he decided to head down to the gym to get in a workout. He needed to get back in the habit of working out in the morning anyway. He got out of bed slowly, as he didn't want to disturb either of his girls. He went over to the dresser, got a pair of shorts, and headed for the bathroom.

"Good morning."

Mark looked over to the bed to see that Amata had awoken, although she hadn't moved from where she was. "Morning babe," Mark said quietly. "Where are you going?" Amata asked, also quietly. "Gym," Mark responded. She nodded, letting Mark go on his way. About ten minutes later, after he had taken care of his business, he came out to find the overhead light on and both Amata and Abby fully awake. Amata was sitting up against the headboard, Abby leaning back against her.

"Daddy!" Abby got up, ran across the bed and leapt into Mark's arms. Mark gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Morning, Abby," Mark said as he sat down on the bed next to Amata. "Good morning, daddy. Thank you for letting me sleep with you guys last night." "You're welcome, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" Mark asked. "Yup!"

He looked over at Amata. "You guys didn't have to get up. It's still early. You can go back to sleep." Amata shook her head. "It's fine, Mark. We're both up at this point, so we've decided to come with you and work out. I need to get back in the habit, and I want Abby to get into a proper routine as well." Mark looked at Abby. "You wanna work out with me and mommy, Abby?" "Yeah! I wanna be big and strong, like you and mommy!" she exclaimed.

"I'm glad you have a positive attitude about it, Abby," Mark said. "It's always good to have a positive attitude when doing anything in life." "Mark," Amata said, "seeing as you're already dressed, can you go get her ready, so I can get dressed as well?" "You got it, babe." Mark stood up, taking Abby with him. "Daddy, we're going to see the aliens today, right?" Abby asked excitedly as she and Mark headed towards the door. Mark chuckled. "Yes, Abby, we're going to see the aliens today." They exited the room and shut the door, leaving a smiling Amata in their wake.

About twenty minutes later, the three of them were in the gym, Abby sitting on a weight bench (with her teddy bear, because she insisted on bringing him) while Mark and Amata stood in front of her. "Ok, Abby, are you ready to start working out?" Mark asked. Abby nodded eagerly. "Good. First, we need to see what we're starting with. Flex your muscles for me, like this." He flexed his arms, showing off his biceps. Abby copied him. He nodded approvingly.

"Okay, good. Now we gotta get psyched up. Abby, are you ready to get buff?" "Yes, daddy." Mark shook his head in mock disappointment. "No, no, Abby, you gotta do it louder, with more passion! I ask again: Are you ready to get buff?!" he asked, raising his voice, stepping closer to Abby. "Yes, daddy!" she answered enthusiastically. "ARE YOU READY TO GET BUFF?!" he practically yelled, inches away from her face. "YES, DADDY!" Abby yelled, while simultaneously trying not to laugh. Mark smiled and gave Abby a quick kiss on the cheek. "Good," he said, his voice returning to normal. The two of them burst out laughing, while Amata just smiled and rolled her eyes, muttering "man-child" under her breath.

Mark and Amata decided to do a few different things to get Abby used to what they would be doing in the future. They started with some stretches. They then moved on to some light cardio. Mark and Amata used the treadmills for the cardio, but since Abby was too small to use them, they just had her walk around the rows of machines and weight benches. In time, they would eventually work her up to jogging, and then running. Then they did some sit-ups and push-ups. They then moved on to lifting weights, Mark using a weight bench while Amata spotted for him, and then switching off. They had Abby lifting two three-pound dumbbells.

"You feeling the burn, babe?" Mark asked as he watched her use the weight bench. "Yeah, I'm feeling the burn alright," she replied. He looked over at Abby, who was sitting nearby. "What about you, Abby? You feeling the burn?" "I sure am, daddy!" She put the dumbbells down and flexed her arms. Mark laughed. "That's great, Abby. Keep it up." Abby then picked the weights back up. It was at this point that the elevator dinged. Mark looked over for a second, Boone and Veronica stepping out.

"Morning Boone, Veronica," Mark said as they got closer. "Morning," Boone said before heading over to a treadmill. "Good morning Mark, Amata, Abby," Veronica replied. "Good morning, Auntie Ronnie! I'm lifting weights!" Abby said enthusiastically. Veronica chuckled. "Yeah, I can see that. You're doing a great job, kiddo." She looked over at Mark. "Mark, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Veronica, I'm kinda busy at the moment. Can it wait?" "Actually, Mark," Amata said as she put the barbell back in the holster, "I think that's enough for today." She grabbed a nearby towel and wiped off her head. "Come on, Abby, let's go have some breakfast." Abby put down the weights, grabbed her teddy bear, and skipped ahead of Amata towards the elevator.

"Ok, so what's up?" Veronica looked over at Boone. "Can we actually do this in private?" "Uh, sure, okay." They went over to an office and shut the door. "So, I went up to the Penthouse a short while ago, you know, to have a look around," Veronica said. Mark nodded. "So, I assume that you met Yes Man?" "Yeah, I, uh, I met him. Or at least I think that it was him. He asked me who I was, but he wouldn't answer any of my questions, not even to confirm who he is."

Mark rubbed his chin. "Really? I think I may have been too specific with my instructions. I'll have to fix that later." "What instructions?" Veronica asked curiously. "When Benny had him reprogrammed, there was a flaw in his programming that made him answer questions for anyone, hence where he got his name. Once I uploaded him to the 38's mainframe, I had him self-correct it, and place restrictions on who he could answer questions for." "Well, who _can_ ask him questions?" Mark sat down on a chair and put his hands behind his head.

"Right now? Only myself and Amata. That was probably why he asked who you were." "Do you plan on giving the rest of us access?" she asked, a trace of annoyance creeping into her voice. "Yes. Eventually." She became visibly annoyed. "Why not now? I think that we've earned your trust at this point." Mark nodded. "Veronica, I trust everyone here. Except for your girlfriend."

"What? Mark, for gods sakes, she saved your life at the Sierra Madre! How could you not trust her after that?" "I am well aware of what she did, Veronica, and I am grateful. However, I've been thinking about that. Would she have done that if her life hadn't been tied to mine?" "Wh-what? Of course she would've! How could you even think that she wouldn't?" Mark raised an eyebrow. "Are you completely sure about that? Do you remember what she was like when we first met? How she wouldn't even shake my hand?"

"You told me that she's Brotherhood to the core. That shone through last night when she had the gall to say that I wasn't responsible enough to have some fancy piece of tech. Sure, she may have understood what I said last night, but understanding something and agreeing with it are two completely different things. I want to trust her, Veronica. Sincerely, I do, but everything that's happened with her since she's gotten here is making it _really_ fucking difficult for that to happen." Veronica chewed on her bottom lip. "Mark, I understand that she was out of line, and I let her know that last night. She **can** be trusted. You just need to give her a chance to prove it," she said pleadingly.

Mark stared at her for a couple of moments. "Alright, I'll tell you what. I will give you and the others access to ask Yes Man anything that you want, except for anything about the Strip's defenses or about House's satellite systems, and you cannot order Yes Man to do anything except to answer questions. But, and this is the key point here, if I find out that she asked Yes Man for information and then goes off to Hidden Valley, then she better hope that the Brotherhood still has a spot for her, because she will be declared persona non-grata, and will not be allowed back onto the Strip under any circumstances. And no amount of begging from you or the others will change that."

"What about the others? What about me?" "Amata won't betray me, and neither will Abby. I'm pretty sure that Cass and Boone won't run to the brass at McCarran, and Arcade would only probably be interested in any medical data for the Followers. The Followers are a peaceful organization who want to help as many people as possible, so I have no problem with him taking them any data. As for you, well, do you plan on betraying me anytime soon?" "No, of course not. You and the others are my family. You don't betray family."

"So, do you see where I'm coming from?" Mark asked. "A little information in the wrong hands can do a lot of damage. Christine's still a bit of an unknown quantity, and I can't risk the safety of the Strip and Freeside. Maybe in time it can change, but for now, this is the way it has to be." She stared off into the distance. "Alright," she said eventually, "I get where you're coming from." "Good," Mark said. "Was there anything else?"

She sat down in a chair next to him. "Yeah, there was one more thing. Since you gave us full disclosure about your life last night, I think that I need to disclose something to you as well. It's nothing bad. I just think that it's something that you should know. You remember when we met at the 188, and I told you that I wanted to come with you guys because there were still places in the Mojave that I wanted to see?" Mark nodded, curious as to where she was going with this.

"Well, that was true. There were places that I wanted to see, but that wasn't the whole reason I wanted to travel with you guys. That kid, the Forecaster, he may have made a prophecy that foretold your arrival." "Really?" Mark asked. "I thought that you didn't believe in that stuff." "Yeah, I did say that, but, maybe, I don't know, I didn't want to admit that he may have been right." "So, tell me, what happened? What did he say, exactly?" Veronica leaned back in her chair. "Here's what went down…"

(188 Trading Post, six days prior to the group's arrival)

It was the early evening, and Veronica was sitting on a jersey barrier, watching the various merchants and traders go about their business, a melancholic look upon her face. Oh, how she wished she could be one of them, not burdened by belonging to a failing organization. She was friendly with the merchants, and a couple even gave her discounts because she was a repeat customer. She tried to talk to the traders that came through, to see what they thought about certain things, but none of them wanted to talk to the strange girl wearing a brown robe.

The Brotherhood had given her the unofficial title of "procurement specialist," saying that she was the best at what she did, so she needed to stay outside where she could do the most good. Veronica didn't buy it. Yes, she was the best at procuring things, but there were plenty of others who could do a serviceable job. They just wanted her out of the bunker for as long as possible, so they basically stuck her here. She wanted them to change. She had pleaded with McNamara on multiple occasions to get him to try and see that the direction that they were headed was not sustainable. It all fell on deaf ears.

"We outlasted the end of the world. We'll outlast these upstarts," he had said once. She snorted. That was a load of bull. There was no new blood coming in. No new blood meant that sooner rather than later, incest would be commonplace, and inbreeding rarely did any good for anyone, never mind highly-trained soldiers. They wouldn't be outlasting anyone.

When she had gone back to the bunker a while ago, she had been surprised that the DC chapter was in town for a visit. She had heard and read about them. They were what she wanted her chapter to be. Open to outsiders. Doing more than just collecting tech, like protecting ordinary people.

She had talked with a few of them, and the more that she found out, the more that she got the urge to request permission to join them, if for no other reason than to meet this wanderer kid that they all talked about, whom she found out was not with them. He seemed like someone that she would want to associate with. In the end, however, she chickened out, and they left in their vertibirds, seemingly taking her hopes for a better future with them.

Some days she got the urge to just up and quit, but then she kept remembering that she had no place else to go. The bunker was her home, the Brotherhood her only family. She had some caps that the Brotherhood gave her to use in case anything interesting came through, but it wasn't enough to start her own life out here, and they weren't technically hers, anyway.

Sure, she could repair things, but so could a lot of other people. Materials required to fix things cost caps or trade, and if she did choose to use the caps, they would dwindle quickly. Plus, the only thing she had to trade was her power fist, and that was her only form of protection, not to mention the sentimental value it held.

Maybe the others in the bunker were right. Maybe she should just stop trying to change things. Maybe then she would find a more welcoming atmosphere every time she went back. A few people were friendly with her, sure, but she didn't really have any friends. Not since…well, she didn't like to think about Christine a lot. It just made her heart hurt.

She needed a miracle, but no matter how much she prayed for one, she doubted that one was just going to fall into her lap. Sighing, she hopped off the barrier and started to walk to stretch her legs a bit. She wandered under the overpass where that kid, the Forecaster they called him, set up shop with his various trinkets. People claimed he could predict the future, but she didn't buy it. It was probably just a rumor the kid started to sucker people out of their caps. "A fool and their money are soon parted," she believed the old saying went. She nodded at him as she passed, with him just staring at her, which she found a bit unnerving. He was a few feet behind her when he started to speak:

" _He is coming."_

Veronica stopped in her tracks and turned around. "What did you say?" The kid stared at her unblinkingly, and continued to speak in a monotone voice.

" _He is coming. A wanderer. The capital's reluctant champion. Born under water, he lived underground. Twice risen from the dead. He sought refuge in the desert, but forces have called upon him to rise again. He will help you find the answers that you seek. In three days he starts his journey, in three more he will arrive. A wanderer will walk again, and the Mojave will never be the same."_

Veronica stood there in shock as the kid put that weird hat of his on, and started messing with one of his trinkets like nothing had happened. Eventually, she came back to earth and walked away, trying to analyze what the kid had just said.

(Present Day)

"Huh," Mark said. "That certainly could mean me when you break it down. The wanderer part, that's obvious. I was born underneath Project Purity, or under water, and I lived in a vault, or underground. I mean, I never technically died, either from the Purifier or Benny, so I didn't rise from the dead, but I was pretty close, I guess."

"Yeah," Veronica said, "I spent days analyzing what he said, wondering if the "wanderer" the Forecaster mentioned was the same one that the DC chapter had mentioned. The logical part of my brain kept telling me that it couldn't possibly be true, but every other part told me to pray like hell that it was."

"That sixth day, I watched people come through, but I never got the feeling that any of them were the guy that I was looking for. Then you came striding up the hill, and I just got the feeling that you were him. That was why I was staring at you. Then when you mentioned coming from DC, and living in a vault, and that you worked with the Brotherhood, I wanted to jump for joy. You had showed up-" "-like the answer to your prayers," Mark finished, remembering what she had told him all that time ago.

"Yeah, like the answer to my prayers," Veronica said, smiling. "You know, Sarah was right. You are incredible. Most people would've milked the hell out of all that fame." Mark shrugged. "Well, I'm not most people." He checked the time. "Did you eat yet? I'm starving," he said as he stood up. She stood up as well. "Not yet. Lead on, Captain," she said, grinning.

(Forty-five minutes later, Penthouse)

The group was gathered in the Penthouse, having just come off the elevator to find Mark waiting for them. Mark now stood with his back to Yes Man, Amata standing to his right, and Abby in front of Amata. The others faced them. "Alright, I know you're probably all excited to see the alien ship, but before we do that, we need to take care of bit of business. This is the Penthouse. Now that House is gone, any of you can come up here as much as you want. Arcade, I know that you're a big fan of books. Well, there's a whole mess of 'em in excellent condition right up those stairs." Arcade glanced up the staircase for a moment or two, then looked back at Mark.

"On the monitor behind me is Yes Man. He is the AI that Benny had reprogrammed, and he is now on the Lucky 38's mainframe, and has access to everything that House once did, including the Securitrons. Say hello to everyone, Yes Man." "Hello, everyone! Boy, it sure is nice to meet more people!" the AI said in his cheery voice. Abby giggled.

"Yes Man, these are my family and friends." He introduced everyone. "Now," Mark said after he finished the introductions, "there is a treasure trove of data on House's data banks that I have not even begun to sift through, but I believe that it will be extremely beneficial. For example, Arcade, any medical data you find can be taken to the Followers, and the machines that kept House alive are through that doorway to my right and down an elevator. Feel free to examine them at your own convenience."

"Thank you, Mark," Arcade said. "I'm sure that any information that I find will be most beneficial." "You're welcome, Arcade. Now, all of you are free to ask him any questions you want on any subject, except for two: New Vegas' defenses, and House's satellite systems." "Why not?" Christine asked, seeming a bit peeved. "Security reasons, and that's all that I am going to say on the subject. Moving on," Mark said, ignoring Christine's glare. "Yes Man, I need you to sync up with mine, Amata's, and Veronica's pip-boys, please."

"You got it, sir!" A few seconds later, the three pip-boys beeped concurrently, and Yes Man's face briefly appeared on them. "There you go," the AI said. "Now I'm just one button press away!" "Thank you, Yes Man. Now, onto the main event. We are about to go up to the alien ship." He paused, noting the excited looks on Arcade's and Veronica's faces. "What about Sarah, Mark?" Amata asked. "I'll bring her up another time. I don't want to keep bugging her," Mark replied.

"Before we go up, there are three rules that you must adhere to. One: Do not touch anything unless Amata or I say so. Two: Do not shoot anyone up there. All beings aboard that ship are friendly, and will cause you no harm. Three: Nothing, and I mean **nothing,** is to be removed from the ship, again, unless Amata or I say so. If anyone feels that they cannot comply with any of these rules, let me know now." He gazed around the room, his eyes resting briefly on Christine. No one answered. "Amata and I are trusting you all with this secret. Do not make us regret it." He pressed a button on his pip-boy. "Ok. They have been forewarned of our arrival. Everyone gather around. I need you to place a hand on me somewhere."

They gathered around him and did as he instructed, although someone placed a hand on his posterior, and it wasn't Amata. "Cass, could you move your hand a bit further north, please?" "Hey, ya said put a hand on ya somewhere," she said, smirking, "but if ya insist." Mark looked up at ED-E. "Sorry, buddy. I'm gonna need you to stay here. I haven't tested this on sentient robots yet." ED-E beeped sadly.

Mark looked around. "Everybody ready?" He got nods from everyone. "Good. Just as a warning, this is going to feel a little weird." He pressed another button on his pip-boy, and in a flash, they were gone.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**


	58. The Future Ain't What It Used To Be

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is doing well. Just so you know, the place where they arrive on the ship is different, and the bridge of the ship will differ slightly from what they are in-game. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**

Moments later, the group arrived on a large circular platform. Everyone but Mark and Amata stumbled slightly. "Whoa, that was weird," Veronica said, checking herself over, as if she expected a piece of herself to be missing. "Yeah," Cass said, "kinda trippy, if ya ask me." They looked around the room. It had rounded walls and was a metallic grey. About ten feet in front of the platform was a control panel, and a large circular door beyond that. Standing at the control panel was a man of African-American descent, wearing winterized medic armor.

Mark and Amata stepped off the platform, Amata holding Abby, and faced the group. "Welcome, everyone, to Starship Zeta." "Why is it called Zeta, Mark?" Arcade asked. "It's the closest translation to what it's called in the alien's language. It is as simple as that." He turned around and walked to the control panel. The man stood at attention and saluted Mark. "Captain," he said. Mark chuckled. He still wasn't used to that. "At ease, soldier." He relaxed. "Amata, you look as lovely as ever," the man said. "Thank you, Lee. You're looking well." Mark looked back at the platform, where the others were looking around in wonder. Mark clapped his hands to get their attention.

"Private Beckett, these are my friends and my adopted daughter." He introduced everyone. "Everyone, this is Private Lee Beckett, U.S. Army, 108th Infantry Battalion." "Please to meet you all," Beckett said, "and welcome aboard." "Hello, Mr. Beckett," Abby said politely. Beckett smiled. "Well, hello Miss Abby. Aren't you just the cutest thing." Abby giggled. "Wait, U.S. Army? You were alive before the war? How is that possible?" Veronica asked. "I'll explain everything in a minute, Veronica, so all your questions will be answered." "Captain," Beckett said, "Commander Tercorien has updates for you on our current projects." Mark nodded. "Thank you, Private. Where are the translators?"

Beckett walked back around the control panel and grabbed a thin metallic case. "Right here, Captain." He opened the case, and inside were a few C-shaped strips of metal that glowed blue every few seconds. Mark and Amata both grabbed one and put them behind their ears, and Amata did the same for Abby. "If you will come off the platform and take one, please," Mark said. They all came down and grabbed one. "What are these, Mark?" Arcade asked as he examined it closely. "Universal translators. There are aliens on board, and as they do not speak English, these are needed to communicate with them."

Arcade looked excited at the thought of speaking with aliens, as did Veronica. Once everyone put one on, Mark spoke again. "You ready to meet the aliens, Abby?" Mark asked the young girl. Abby nodded excitedly. "I sure am, daddy!" "Good to hear, Abby. Everyone, follow us, please." Mark and Beckett led the group through a hallway, and up two flights of stairs, until they finally reached the bridge. Once the door opened, Mark and Beckett strode through. "Captain on the bridge!" Private Beckett proclaimed.

Off to either side of the room were a couple of aliens typing at holographic terminals that seemed to be floating in mid-air that had a bluish tinge to them. In the center of the room, on an elevated platform was a white high-backed chair facing forward, with another of the terminals barely visible above it. Between the aliens and the platform were sets of stairs leading down. At the opposite end of the room was a large window that gave everyone a nice view of space and the earth.

Everyone, except for Mark and Amata, looked around in amazement. "Would you look at that view," Veronica said, walking forward slightly to get a better look. Arcade took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and then put the glasses back on. "Mark, this…this is incredible! That really is the earth, and this tech, it's just…wow!" The chair on the platform swiveled around, revealing a man with messy blonde hair, also wearing winterized medic armor. He stood up and approached Mark. "Captain," he said as he saluted Mark. Mark returned the salute. "Commander Tercorien."

When Mark had first met Private Elliott Tercorien after his release from cryostasis, the man was jumpy, nervous, and afraid of his own shadow. But between the fighting to take over the ship, and Mark making him his second-in-command, he slowly became more self-assured and confident in his own abilities. "You know I've asked you not to call me that, Captain. I preferred my old title." Mark chuckled. "And I keep telling you, Commander, you are my second-in-command, and we are on a ship, hence the need for a new title." "Yes, yes, I know." He looked at Amata. "Amata, I swear, you keep getting more beautiful every time that you visit." "Thank you, Elliott. It's nice to see you again," Amata said as she gave him a hug.

"Commander," Mark said, "I'd like to introduce you to a few people." Mark introduced everyone, saving Abby for last. Elliott went down to one knee and kissed the back of Abby's hand. Abby giggled. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Abby." "It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Ter…ter…" Elliott laughed. "It's Tercorien, but you can just call me Elliott, or Mr. T." "Okay Mr. Elliott," Abby said.

He stood back up and addressed the group. "Welcome aboard, everyone. I am Commander Elliott Tercorien, second-in-command of this ship, and former U.S. Army medic." "Commander," Mark said, "where is the rest of our motley crew?" "Well, Sally is, well, somewhere. I swear, I need to put a tracker on her or something. Kago is meditating in his quarters, Daniels is performing maintenance in the robot assembly area, and Somah is-" Another door to the right of the one they entered opened up, revealing a woman of African-American descent, wearing black combat armor, carrying an alien weapon. "-right there," Elliott finished.

"Somah, you're looking well," Mark said in greeting. She smirked. "Yeah, well, not living in an irradiated wasteland does wonders for you." Mark chuckled. "I have no doubt. Somah, these are my friends. This is…" Somah cut him off. "Spare me the introductions, Captain. Name's Somah, head of security, and ex-slaver. If you've got a problem with that, keep your opinions to yourself, because I really don't care."

"Mark, you're letting a slaver walk free up here?" Christine said, eyeing Somah warily, a hand kept over a pistol holstered on her hip. Somah stepped towards Christine. "You wanna throw down, sister? Because I will put you in the ground." "Oh, I'd like to see you try, you slaver scumbag." Mark intervened, seeing as Abby was now hiding behind Amata in fright.

"Enough, both of you! Somah, please go…do something that doesn't involve you being here." Somah and Christine stared each other down for a moment, before Somah broke eye contact. "Yes, Captain." Somah left the room, leaving a tense atmosphere in her wake. Amata comforted Abby, while Mark glared at Veronica. Veronica got the message, and dragged Christine a short distance away to speak with her.

"Well," Mark said as he took a seat in the chair, "how about I tell you all how this all came to be?" He now had the attention of the group, including Christine and Veronica. Amata, after having calmed down Abby, sat down on his lap. "Oh, babe, you're getting heavy." She sent a mock glare his way. "And whose fault is that?" Mark laughed. "Fair enough."

"So, it all started one day when I came upon a crashed spaceship in the middle of nowhere in DC. Next thing that I know, I'm being lifted into the air by some bluish beam of energy. After that, I vaguely remember staring into the faces of some aliens, and then the next time I was fully awake, I found myself nearly naked in the same cell as Somah."

"It was her idea to stage a fight to get the attention of the guards, which worked. Once they came in, we overpowered them…" He then went on to tell the rest of the story, from meeting Sally and the others, to his spacewalk, to his final confrontation with another alien ship. He did mention the death ray, but assured everyone that it was destroyed for good and had no plans to repair it. Unfortunately, Paulson had died during the final assault. Mark kept his hat and his revolver in his quarters in Paulson's memory. They cremated his body, and had a small ceremony in his honor. Mark eventually had taken the ashes down and spread them in the Arlington National Cemetery.

"So, yeah, I became Captain, and stayed up here for a few days to get better acquainted with the ship. A homing beacon was sent down to where I was first abducted, so I could come and go as I pleased, but I couldn't leave that out in the open, so I had it moved to a safe place." "Where?" Arcade asked. "I had it moved to a back room in Moira Brown's shop in Megaton, and made her swear that she would not go up. In exchange, I brought some alien objects down for her to examine. Nothing dangerous, mind you, just random trinkets. Before I left DC, I rendered the beacon inoperable."

"Um, Mark," Veronica said, "won't people begin to talk if she claims to have alien objects?" Mark shook his head. "No. Most people in Megaton think she's nuts anyway, so her claiming to have alien objects would only solidify their thinking that of her." "Mark, if you could just teleport up here, why did we have to walk all the way back from the Sierra Madre?" Christine asked.

"Two reasons," Mark said. "One, I wasn't ready to share this with any of you guys yet, and two, I can't just teleport anywhere I want instantly. Once we're done here, we will teleport right back into the Penthouse at the 38. There is no actual, physical beacon there. I had the rest of the beacons scrapped. It's kind of hard to explain, but essentially, there is a trail of energy that leads back to where we were."

The door to the group's right opened again, and Mark smiled when he saw who it was. "Greetings, Captain Cosmos!" Sally said to Mark as she walked right up to him and saluted him. She had ditched her old clothing in favor of one of the silvery outfits that the aliens wore. She then looked at Amata. "Greetings to you as well, Miss Skyfire!" Amata leaned down and gave Sally a hug. "Hey, Sally. How have you been?" "I am wonderful! I am keeping this ship in tip-top shape for you and the Captain!"

"Well, actually, Sally," Elliott said, "I'm kinda the one doing that." Sally turned to face Elliott. "You only think that, Jangles. Don't make me get the monkey costume again." Elliott grimaced. "Everyone," Mark said, "this is Sally Johnson. Cadet Sally, these are my friends, and my daughter. Abby, come say hi." Abby walked over and stood in front of Sally. Mark noted that they looked similar, almost as if they were sisters.

"Hello, Sally. My name is Abigail Celeste Fields. Why did you call my mommy and daddy those names?" "Well, duh, he's the Captain, so he's obviously Captain Cosmos, and Stella Skyfire was his second-in-command, well, for the first few episodes, anyway." "Who's Captain Cosmos?" Abby asked. Sally's face lit up, as she got to talk about one of her favorite subjects. "You don't know who Captain Cosmos is? He's only the coolest, most awesomest superhero is the entire universe! He goes around in his super-cool spaceship, fighting bad guys and saving the day with the help of his trusty sidekick, Jangles the Moon Monkey!"

"Cool!" Abby exclaimed. "I know, right? Wanna be friends?" Sally asked. She extended a hand, which Abby shook. "Sure," Abby answered. Mark and Amata looked at each other and smiled. They hoped that the two of them would become friends. As much as ED-E and the others were friendly with Abby, she really did need a friend that was around her own age.

Sally then turned to Mark. "Permission to give Abby a tour of the ship, Captain?" "Permission granted, Cadet Sally. I would like you to take my friends on a tour as well. I have some things that I need to catch up on." She saluted Mark. "Aye, aye, captain." "Wait, yer gonna have a kid show us around?" Cass asked skeptically. Sally frowned and walked up to Cass, stared her down for a few seconds, and then stomped on Cass' right foot. "I'll have you know," Sally said as Cass hopped around in pain, "that I know this ship better than anyone, and I am the most qualified to show you around."

"That is true, Cass," Mark said. "She can give an infinitely better tour than I could. Cadet Sally, before you go, can you come here for one second?" Once Sally was next to the chair, Mark whispered in her ear. "Absolutely, Captain. Everyone, please follow me!" Sally said as she exited the room. Abby went to walk right next to her, while the others trailed behind.

"Interesting group you've got there, you two, especially that redhead. Is she, uh, seeing anyone? Just for curiosity's sake, of course," Elliott said. Amata grinned at him. "Why Mr. Tercorien, are you perhaps attracted to our resident cowgirl?" Elliott blushed and started stammering. "W-What? Yes, no, I mean n…no, I mean, um, uh…" Mark and Amata started laughing.

"I'm just teasing you, Elliott," Amata said. "I actually think that the two of you would make a cute couple. Though if you do make a go for her, I hope your liver is ready to take a pounding." He furrowed his brow. "Why is that now?" "She's kind of a party girl, and she likes to drink…a lot," Mark said, "and whiskey is her drink of choice." "Well," Elliott said as he rubbed his chin, "I'm not much of a drinker, but I suppose I could get used to it. If I remember correctly, there are some very old bottles of whiskey among the things the aliens have taken from Earth over the years. Perhaps I could use one of them to break the ice."

"Yeah, that could work," Mark said. "We could even talk you up a bit to her, if you want." He smiled. "That would be great, thanks. So, um, is there any particular reason that you lied to them about the death ray and the beacons?" "I already told them my life story and showed them this place. I think I'm allowed to have a couple of secrets. Anyway, give us the updates on the projects."

Mark swiveled the chair around to face the control panel. The panel was a large circle that sat at a forty-five-degree angle. It had the buttons to control the lasers that he had used to fight the other ship, in addition to controls for the ship's systems. It had taken him a while to figure out what buttons controlled what and what the various dials showed. Using duct tape and a marker, he had labeled everything so he wouldn't forget, or press the wrong button by accident. He also had all the ship's files converted to English.

He pressed a button, and a holographic blue screen popped up in front of him. He looked through files, and looked for the file on the current projects and opened it. Mark scrolled through as Elliott talked. "Ok, so, we've finished cataloguing everything that the aliens have brought aboard over the years. There's a bunch of junk, you know, ruined bathtubs, toilets, and the like. There's an old Corvega, a lot of food, clothing, armor, a lot of Giddy-Up Buttercups-" "Oh, Mark," Amata interrupted, "we should being one of those down for Abby to play with." "Yeah, why not. Maybe for her birthday. Sorry, Commander, keep going."

"Right," Elliott said, "there are also a bunch of weapons and ammunition, enough to outfit a decent-sized army." Mark went through and saw what was there. "Alright, nothing of note. Next." "The Shield Project is coming along nicely. As you know, the energy shields were weaved into the clothing some of the aliens wore. Adapting the tech to work for anyone is in its final stages. We're just tweaking a few things." Mark nodded. "Next."

"The death ray is back on-line and fully operational. We've tested it over the Pacific, and it seems to be working properly." He paused for a moment. "I still think that we should've left it destroyed." "I understand your concerns, Commander, but I told you back then that it could be useful. It turns out that I was right." Mark exited out of the project files, and brought up a screen that showed the earth. He looked on his pip-boy, and then entered some coordinates on the screen, and set the ray to fire at ten percent of its full power.

"What are those coordinates of, Captain?" Elliott asked. "The Sierra Madre Casino," Mark answered. "Yeah, I remember hearing about that place. Why are you blowing it up, though?" Mark shook his head as he nudged Amata to stand so he could get up. "It's a long story. Suffice to say, it is now a hellhole, and it needs to go. You have the controls." Mark walked down a stairway to the lower part of the bridge, Amata following right behind him. They stood in front of the window to get a better view.

"Firing on your command, Captain," Elliott said. Mark stared out into space for a few moments before he spoke. "Fire," Mark ordered. "Firing death ray at specified coordinates in 5…4…3…2…1…" Moments later, a yellow beam of energy came out from under the ship and struck the earth, right where the Sierra Madre stood. As the energy dissipated, Amata slipped her hand into his. "Now I am become death, destroyer of worlds," Mark said softly. "You okay?" Amata asked. He gave her a kiss. "Yeah, I'm fine."

The two of them went back up the stairs and re-took their places in the Captain's chair. "Alright, so that's done. How goes the monitoring of the country?" "Well, we are detecting signs of life across the U.S. There are some unusual energy readings coming from the area around Boston, but as of right now we don't think that it is anything to be concerned with." Mark nodded. "Keep an eye on it, let me know if it does become a problem." "Will do. Did you know that they turned Fenway Park into a settlement? Kind of inspiring, actually."

"You a baseball fan, Commander?" Elliott grinned. "Oh yeah, big time baseball fan. Big Yankee fan. It's a shame that Yankee Stadium was destroyed by the bombs." "Can you bring Fenway up on screen? I want to see it." Elliott walked over to an unused terminal over to the side and began to type. A few moments later, the view of space and the earth was replaced by an overhead shot of Fenway Park. "Zoom in closer," Mark said.

The picture got close to field level, showing people going about their business. "Hmm, doesn't look half bad," Mark said. "May have to visit one day. Can you switch over to DC, please?" "Sure. Any specific place?" Elliott asked. "The Citadel, if you wouldn't mind." The shot of Fenway Park was replaced by a shot of the Citadel's courtyard. It was a hive of activity, with the day's training in full swing.

Mark smiled, not saying anything as he watched the goings on for a couple of minutes, when he noticed something. "Commander, zoom in, northeast quadrant." The picture zoomed in further, showing an overhead shot of a woman with blonde hair that Mark was all too familiar with. He had looked in on the Citadel before, but had never been able to find her. The Sentinel appeared to be yelling at some recruits, who began to run laps. "Hey, Sarah," Mark said quietly.

What happened next was strange. Almost as if she heard him, she looked up, and her frown instantly changed into a warm smile. "Interesting," Mark said as Sarah went back to what she had been doing. "Clear the screen, Commander." The view switched back to that of space and the earth. "Well, that was weird," Amata said. "Yeah, tell me about it. Then again, my whole life has been weird, so what else is new?"

(One hour later)

Mark was looking through a few reports on the computer, while Amata talked with Private Beckett on the lower section of the bridge about what life was like prior to the war. Elliott had gone to the cargo hold and retrieved a bottle of Jim Beam Bourbon Whiskey that had been made over three hundred years ago, and was now pacing around like a caged animal and talking to himself, waiting for the group, Cass in particular, to return. "Commander," Mark said without looking from the computer, "if you don't stop doing that, I will eject you out of the airlock."

"I'm sorry, it's just…what if she doesn't like it?" "Trust me, Commander, if it's alcohol, she'll love it." "And besides," Amata said, coming up the stairs, "I saw her checking you out, too. Might have forgotten to mention that earlier." Elliott's face lit up. "Really?" She nodded. "Yes, really. Just be confident. Women like guys who are confident. Just don't turn into a bumbling mess. You're giving her a bottle of whiskey, not asking her to marry you." "So basically, don't be the version of you I first met when you came out of cryostasis," Mark said. "Wouldn't be the first time he turned into a bumbling mess around a woman," Private Beckett said as he came over.

Elliott closed his eyes and groaned. "Please don't bring that up." "No, please, do bring that up," Mark said, snickering, "and that's an order, Private." "Gladly, Captain. So, we were in Basic Training, and there was this woman with us, um, Emily something. She was fine as hell. Nice curves in all the right places. Probably could've been a model. Every guy wanted her, but man, she was cold as ice. She had these blue eyes, and she could send a chill down your spine with just one glance. So, we're in the mess hall for lunch one day, when my boy Elliott here works up the courage to go talk to her to ask her out."

"Please stop," Elliott begged. Beckett ignored him. "She's at a table by herself, so he figured that it was the perfect time. He's all confident, but once he gets over there, he's all nervous and shaking, and suddenly, it's like he forgot how to speak English. He's tripping over his words, and Emily's just looking at him like he's lower than pond scum. And here comes the best part. Out of nowhere, he just throws up. On the table, on her lunch, and on her."

Mark and Amata burst out laughing. Once they settled back down, Beckett finished the story. "So now the hall goes silent, and everyone's looking at him. He turns to run, but some of the puke was on the floor, so when he starts to move, he slips and hits his head on the table. Knocked his ass out cold." "Yes, it was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, and after I woke up, I felt like an idiot. Could we drop it now, please? I'd rather not think about that while I'm about to attempt to court another woman."

The group looked over when one of the doors opened, a frantic-looking Christine being chased by a very angry-looking Toshiro Kago, looking ready to strike with his katana. He grabbed Christine by one of her arms, threw her against a wall, and then pressed the blade to her throat. "Return what you have taken, thief!" the samurai growled out. Mark quickly got to his feet and went over to see what was going on, followed by Amata and the two pre-war soldiers. The rest of the group that was on the tour had ran in the room.

Various weapons were now being pointed at Christine and Kago, and Veronica looked like she was ready to take out Kago with her power fist. "Let go of my girlfriend!" Veronica said. Kago looked at her. "Your "girlfriend" is a thief! I should cut off her hands like they did to thieves in my village." Mark let out a shrill whistle to get everyone's attention. "Alright, everyone calm the hell down. What is going on here?" "Mark," Christine said, "tell this crazy guy to let go of me! You said they weren't going to hurt us!"

Mark walked calmly over to where they were, and put a hand on Kago's shoulder. "Kago, my friend, please take your blade away from her throat. There are children present." Kago looked over to see both Sally and Abby being led away from the scene by Amata. Kago took away the blade and sheathed it, and Christine let out a sigh of relief. "Consider yourself lucky. A child should not bear witness to bloodshed." He then looked at Mark. "Captain, I saw this woman take one of those, uh, how do you say, power…cells, and place it in her pocket. That is why I called her a thief." "He's lying!" Christine exclaimed.

Mark looked at Kago, then at Christine. "Christine, empty your pockets." "What? No, Mark, I swear that I didn't take anything!" "Really now? Then, uh, how do you explain that blue glow coming from your right pocket?" The others looked, and did indeed see a blue glow emanating from her cargo pants. Veronica groaned and dragged her left hand over her face. "Goddammit, Christine." Mark held out a hand. "Give it to me, Christine."

Christine reluctantly reached into her pocket and put the power cell in his hand without looking at him. "Christine, since I'm assuming that you were planning to take this back down to Earth, that's two of my rules that you've broken. What do you have to say for yourself?" Before Christine could answer, Veronica did. "Mark, let me handle this, please. Can you send Christine and I back down?" "Yeah, I can send you down to the last used coordinates. Beckett!" "Yes, Captain?" the Private answered.

"Please take Miss Santangelo and Miss Royce to the transport room and send them back, please. Oh, and make sure they leave the translators here." "Yes, Captain. Ladies, if you will follow me, please." Veronica, who was clearly unhappy, grabbed Christine by the arm and dragged her out of the room. "Come on, you. We need to talk." Once the door closed, the room was left in an awkward silence. "So," Mark said eventually, "how was the tour?"

(Eight minutes later)

Veronica and Christine reappeared in the Penthouse. Veronica hadn't said a word to Christine on their way back to the transport room. Once they both got their bearings, Veronica opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it and went to look out the windows, leaving Christine standing in the middle of the room. After a minute or so of silence, Veronica turned back around and spoke.

"He had three very simple rules, Christine," she said, holding up three fingers. "Three rules: don't touch, don't shoot, and don't take. You broke two of those at once, and you nearly broke the third with that Somah woman." "Veronica, I wasn't-" "Wasn't what? Going to take that thing off the ship? So, what, you just found it on the ground, so you figured that you would just put it in your pocket and give it back to Mark? Don't pull that crap with me, Christine. I know exactly what you were going to do with it. You were going to take it to Hidden Valley. Just admit it."

They stared each other down. "Alright, so what if I was?" Christine said. "You saw all of that technology! He complains about the Brotherhood hoarding tech, yet look at what he's keeping up there!" "That's completely different Christine! Down here we're talking about plasma pistols and laser rifles. We know what they're made of, and how much damage they can cause. Up there are things that are far beyond our comprehension, made out of materials that likely don't exist on Earth."

"Mark obviously has seen first-hand what those weapons can do, the dangers that they pose. I doubt that either of them have used that weapon since they've came out here, and I can understand why. If other people, like the Brotherhood, saw a weapon that they've never seen before, they would be hunting them down to get it, and that would put Abby and their unborn child at risk as well."

Veronica paused as a realization came to her. "You weren't just going to take them the power cell. You were going to tell the Brotherhood about the ship." "Of course I was. Do you know how useful all of that tech could be to the Brotherhood?" Veronica let out a yell and threw her hands above her head. "Good god, woman! Is that all that you think about? How something could benefit the Brotherhood? Did anything Mark or I said last night stick in that brain of yours, or did it just go in one ear and out the other?"

"Did you know that Mark actually had a blanket ban on anyone but him or Amata having access to Yes Man? He did that because he didn't want to single you out, because he doesn't trust you." "What?" Christine asked, a bit perplexed. "Oh, you heard what I said. He. Does. Not. Trust. You. He told me that plain and simple this morning, but I defended you. I told him that you could be trusted. That he just needed to give you a chance. He agreed, reluctantly, but he agreed nonetheless. Now I just feel like a fucking idiot for defending you."

"Wait, wait, back up a second," Christine said, "how does he not trust me? I saved his damn life at the Sierra Madre!" "Well, you didn't exactly make a good first impression. He lets you out of the Auto-Doc and the first thing you do is jump on him and start punching him. Granted, you may not have been in your right mind at the time, so I'll give you a pass on that. But then you wouldn't even bother to shake his hand after he was willing to start over. Then you get back here, and then you have that whole thing with Boone, and then there was all the crap you pulled last night and today, and…" She trailed off and sighed.

"Christine, answer a question for me. If I wasn't there, and if your life wasn't tied to Mark's at the Madre, would you have saved him in the switching station?" "Veronica, I-" Veronica steeled her gaze. "Yes or no, Christine." Christine didn't answer, but the silence spoke volumes for Veronica. "That's what I thought," Veronica said as she let out another sigh. "Mark was right."

"Veronica, why are you taking his side? You've known me and the Brotherhood a hell of a lot longer." "He has never lied to me. He may have omitted certain details about his life, and after hearing everything last night, I get it. If I was in his position, I would probably have done the same thing. You've lied to me, and the Brotherhood's lied to me. There's only so much that I can take. Right now, I trust him more than you and the Brotherhood combined."

"I met him at the 188, and even though he barely knew anything about me, he let me travel with him and Amata and the others. He took a chance on me, knowing that I was Brotherhood, and knowing what our chapter was like. He and Amata kept my secret from the others. He trusted me to watch over Amata when she was hurt. He and the others have been nothing but nice to me."

"Veronica, I'm not saying that they're nice people, but the Brotherhood is your family." Veronica scoffed and shook her head. "No, that's where you're wrong. I only thought that they were my family because I had nothing else to compare it to. Ever since I've been with them, I've seen what a real family acts like. They don't belittle my beliefs. They don't act like I'm some nuisance that they have to put up with. They listen to what I have to say, and they value my opinions. They genuinely care about me. If I died tomorrow, they would mourn me. The Brotherhood would have a moment of silence, and then act like nothing happened. Hell, most of them would probably be happy that I died."

"They are not my family. They are a group of xenophobes with a bunch of outdated rules and ideals that I was unfortunate enough to be born into." "Unfortunate?!" Christine exclaimed. "Veronica, how could you say that? That's how we met! They taught you everything that you know!" "Yeah, and look what happened. We were separated for six years by my mentor, who then turned into a maniac that was hell-bent on committing genocide. Not to mention the ridicule that I had to endure every time that I returned to the bunker. I don't know about you, but to me, that doesn't exactly scream, "loving family."

Veronica paused to take a calming breath. "Christine, you need to choose." Christine looked confused. "Choose what?" "Us or them, Christine. This group or the Brotherhood. It is clearly obvious that your loyalty to the Brotherhood is clashing with your ability to be a member of this team. So choose." "What?" Christine said, looking at Veronica in disbelief. "No, Veronica, I can do both. Just give me another chance. Please."

Veronica shook her head, her stoic demeanor belying the storm of emotions going on inside of her heart and mind. "Christine, you've had multiple chances. You were told that we were living with an NCR sniper, yet you pulled a gun on him. Yes, you only did it because he pulled one on you, but he wasn't going to shoot you, not with Abby right down the hallway. Then last night you basically said that Mark wasn't responsible to have a weapon that only he and maybe Amata knows how it works. Then this morning happened."

"When I talked with Mark this morning, he didn't say it, but I got the feeling that bringing you up to the ship was a test, and you failed miserably. He didn't give you an ultimatum last night, when he would have been perfectly justified to. Maybe it was because he didn't know you that well, or because you're my girlfriend, or maybe just because he's a nice guy. Maybe a little bit of all that. But I am giving you an ultimatum. So choose."

Christine took a step forward, and went to put a hand on Veronica's shoulder, but Veronica took a step back. "Veronica, why are you doing this? Don't you care about me anymore?" "I do, Christine, but I care about the others as well. I may not have taken any type of oath to the effect, but I have sworn my allegiance to Mark. He is a force for good in the Mojave, and he has the skills and resources to incite change. I wanted the Brotherhood to be that force for good, but they refuse to listen, so they lost my allegiance, not that they know it yet. Please stop stalling, and make your choice, Christine."

"Veronica, I…I can't." "No, Christine, you can, but you just don't want to. It was naïve of me to think that you cared more about me than the Brotherhood. Since you won't decide, I will decide for you. Get out, Christine. You need to leave." Christine appeared to be in shock. "Veronica, are you- are you breaking up with me? You were the one that wanted me to come back!" she exclaimed.

"Because I thought that we could pick up where we left off," Veronica responded. "Honestly, though, I'm not really feeling it. We've been apart for too long. I've changed, Christine, and, well, you haven't. I have a new purpose and new responsibilities, and I embrace all of it wholeheartedly." Christine crossed her arms over her chest and struck a defiant pose. "Veronica, I'm not leaving, and you can't make me." Veronica was silent for a couple of moments.

"You're right. I can't." Christine smiled, thinking that everything would be okay, but any hope was quickly dashed. "But someone else can." Veronica went to her pip-boy. "Mark, come in." Christine's face paled. "Hey, Veronica," Mark said through the pip-boy, "is everything okay?" "Yeah, everything's just peachy. Listen, Mark, you know that favor you owe me? Well, I'm calling it in." "Uh, yeah, sure no problem. What do you want?" "Before I tell you, is Abby with you?" "No, she's in my personal quarters with Sally." Veronica stared at Christine as she spoke. "Veronica, please, no," Christine begged. "Mark, I want you to ban Christine from the Strip." That statement was met with silence. "Mark, you still there?"

"What? Oh yeah, I'm still here. Did I just mishear you? You want me to ban Christine from the Strip? Actually, you know what? Hang on. Veronica, I'm closing the connection. I need to test something anyway." Mark's voice cut out, leaving the penthouse in silence. About twenty seconds later, the large computer screen, which had been blank, displayed the upper part of Mark sitting in the captain's chair, Amata leaning down next to him.

"Can you guys hear me? Can you see me?" Mark asked. "Yes to both, Mark," Veronica responded. "Ok, good. Now," he said, looking between Veronica and Christine in confusion, "could you repeat what you said, because I don't think that we heard you correctly." "No, you did not mishear me, Mark. I am calling in my favor, and asking you to ban Christine from the Strip." "Can I ask why?" Mark asked. "You remember the conversation we had this morning, Mark? About how Christine didn't have your trust?"

"Mark!" Amata exclaimed. Mark put a hand up to silence her. "I'll explain later, babe. Go on, Veronica." "Well, after the stunt she pulled this morning, I don't think that she is able to work with us and be part of the Brotherhood at the same time. So do it. Give the order." "Veronica, I would just like to point out the fact that you were working with us and the Brotherhood, so…." "I know, Mark, but I was already at odds with them when I met you."

"Veronica, sweetie," Amata said, "I understand that you're angry, but I think that that anger is clouding your judgement. I think that you need to cool down before you do anything drastic." "Amata, I have never been more level-headed in my life." Mark looked at Christine. "Christine?" "Mark, please, I'm sorry. I swear that I won't do it again. Just give me another chance." "I already told you, Christine. You already had enough chances. Do it, Mark," Veronica said.

Mark and Amata looked at each other, facial expressions changing at a rapid pace. Amata eventually just shrugged, and Mark sighed. He looked directly at Christine. "Very well." He cleared his throat. "Christine Royce, I, Mark Franklin, as head of the sovereign state of New Vegas, hereby declare you to be persona non-grata. You are banned from the Strip forevermore. You have a half-hour to collect your belongings and leave the Strip. Failure to comply will result in you being forcibly removed. Yes Man!"

The picture on the screen split in half, Yes Man's face appearing on the other half. "Yes, sir?" the AI responded. "Christine Royce is hereby banned from the Strip. Please have a Securitron escort her to retrieve her belongings. She has thirty minutes to leave, starting now. If she has not left by then, she is to be forcibly removed." "Yes sir!" Mark and Amata both gave Christine a sympathetic look, before Mark cut off his part of the connection, leaving Yes Man's face on the monitor.

A Securitron then rolled up to Christine. "Veronica, please, reconsider," she said in a last-ditch plea. Veronica glared coldly at Christine. "You made your bed, Christine. Now you need to go lie in it." Veronica then turned around and went up the staircase, disappearing behind a curtain.

(15 minutes later)

The remainder of the group reappeared in the Penthouse. Mark had checked with Yes Man that Christine had vacated the Strip before they returned. Things were already awkward enough as they were. "Well, aside from the business with the samurai and Christine, that was very interesting. Thank you for that, Mark," Arcade said. "You're welcome, Arcade. Just remember, you can't tell anyone about this. Not even Julie."

Arcade chuckled. "Don't worry. I doubt that anyone would believe me, anyway. Even I can't believe it. I mean, I talked with an actual alien." He smiled and shook his head. "If you'll excuse me, I think that I'll go and take a look at that machinery that kept House alive." Arcade then went through the open doorway.

Mark looked at Amata, who was staring at her pip-boy. "Where is she?" Mark asked as Cass and Boone listened in. They had heard the entire exchange between Mark, Veronica and Christine. "Cocktail Lounge, I think. I'm gonna go talk with her." Mark nodded. "Ok. I'm gonna stay here and go though some more data." Abby, who had been chasing ED-E around the room, caught that last part. "Ooh, can I stay up here with you, daddy?" Mark smiled and picked Abby up. "Absolutely, sweetheart. You can be my assistant." "Yay!" the young girl exclaimed excitedly.

(2 minutes later)

Amata stepped off the elevator and into the Cocktail Lounge, which was right below the Penthouse. It was a large, circular room with large bay windows going all the way around the room to give patrons an unobstructed view of Vegas and the surrounding areas. It was a three-tiered room, with the bar in the middle being the highest section, proper dining tables in the middle section, and faded yellow couches and coffee tables set around the outside, the lowest section. Like the rest of the 38, it appeared to be in pristine condition.

Amata found Veronica a little to her right, sitting on one of the couches, staring out the window. Amata approached her. "Go away, Mark," Veronica said, not turning her head. "It's not Mark, Veronica," Amata said as she sat down across from her. "Sorry, Amata. Mark's usually the one giving me a pep talk." "It's alright. He's pretty good at making people feel better." There was a silence for a minute or two as Amata looked out the window as well.

"So, how'd you like the ship?" Amata asked, breaking the silence. "Oh, the ship was something, but I'm guessing that you didn't come here just to ask me about that." Amata chuckled. "No, not really. So, um, are you alright?" "Eh, I'm fine, I guess. Is Mark mad at Christine?" "No, he wasn't mad. More…disappointed." "Yeah, well that makes two of us," Veronica replied. "You know that I defended her to Mark this morning, saying that she could be trusted? Then she went and pulled that stunt. Made me look like a liar."

"So, are you and Christine done?" Amata asked. Veronica straightened out on the couch. "Yeah, we're pretty much done. You know, when I convinced her to come back from the Sierra Madre, I thought that we could pick up right where we left off, but it just never felt the same. It was six years since I last saw her. Like I told her, I think it's because I've changed, and she hasn't. Be careful what you wish for, right?"

"Well, people change as they grow, Veronica, and what we want in life changes as well. I'm not the same person now that I was six years ago, and what I wanted back then isn't what I want now. Except for Mark. I've always wanted Mark." Veronica chuckled. "Yeah, that seems fairly obvious from everything that I've found out about the two of you. You two have a love story for the ages. Your relationship seems to be perfect."

At that last remark, Amata laughed. "Veronica, our relationship is not perfect. No relationship is, and if anyone tells you different, then they're lying to you. We argue, just like any other couple, and there are some days that I want to strangle him, but I don't because I love him. Growing up, if I was mad at him, I'd just ignore him for a while. These days I withhold sex." Veronica grinned. "I'll bet the make-up sex is pretty good, though." Amata grinned back at her. "Yeah, the make-up sex is pretty good, but we're getting off-track here."

"While what you said about you changing and her not changing is valid, what I also think may have happened is that maybe you compared your relationship with Christine to mine and Mark's relationship. You said that you saw our relationship as perfect, so you wanted yours to be the same thing, and when it wasn't measuring up, you got angry and used what happened today as an excuse to end things with her."

Veronica sighed and looked out the window. "I don't know, maybe you're right. Regardless, I think Christine and I are done for good. I need to stop trying to hang onto the past. While I'll always remember the good times that we had together, I need to move on with my life. There are plenty of fish in the sea, and I think it's time to go see what I can catch." Veronica looked at Amata, appearing to be content.

"Thanks, Amata. I feel a lot better about things, interestingly enough. She was the last piece connecting me to my old life, so now I can fully start anew. "Veronica 2.0. Even better than the original," you might say." Amata smiled. "Happy for you, Veronica. Now, how about we go see what Mark and Abby are up to?" They both stood up. "Sounds like a plan. You know, now that I think about it, there is one more loose end that I need to tie up, and hopefully Yes Man can help."

They stepped off the elevator to the Penthouse, and once they did, they could hear music emanating from the office. Although they couldn't hear it clearly, it was very upbeat, and wasn't one of the songs that were played on the radio. Once they got closer to the office, they could hear laughter, and the music became clearer:

"… _Why don't you come with me little girl,_

 _On a magic carpet ride_

 _Well you don't know what we can see,_

 _Why don't you tell your dreams to me_

 _Fantasy will set you free…"_

The two of them walked through the curtain, and what they saw was simply adorable. Mark was holding Abby, dancing around the room to the music. Abby was laughing hysterically, and her hair was flying around.

"… _Close your eyes girl_

 _Look inside girl_

 _Let the sound take you away_

 _You don't know what we can find_

 _So why don't you come with me little girl_

 _On a magic carpet ride_

 _Well you don't know what we can see."_

As the music faded out, Mark tossed Abby straight up in the air, and as he did, Amata's heart lodged in her throat. But Mark caught her, gave her a kiss, and then set her down. "Thank you very much for the dance, Abby. You were wonderful." Abby giggled. "You're welcome, daddy." "Mark," Amata asked as she and Veronica moved towards them, "what was that? I've never heard that music before."

"Oh, hey you two," Mark said as Abby ran over to Amata. He looked at Veronica. "You okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine. So, what was that?" "Well, I got the basics on what House was planning for Vegas and the Mojave, and got an overview of his financials. Then I asked Yes Man if there was anything unusual on House's databanks, which led me to discover a few things: Radio New Vegas was controlled by House, Mr. New Vegas is an Artificial Intelligence-" 'Well, I guess I won't be meeting him then,' Amata thought. "-and House has thousands of pre-war songs saved."

"Really?" Veronica asked curiously. "Then why did the station play the same few songs over and over?" "I asked Yes Man the same question. There was nothing to suggest why he did it, just that he did it. So, I had Yes Man play something upbeat, and asked my darling daughter to have a dance with me." Amata looked down at Abby, who was standing in front of her. "Did you enjoy dancing with your daddy, Abby?"

"Yes I did mommy. It was super fun!" Amata leaned down and gave her a kiss. "Glad you enjoyed it, Abby. I enjoy dancing with daddy, too. Now why don't you head downstairs with ED-E and see what your Auntie Cass is up to." "Okay, mommy. Let's go, ED-E." The eyebot followed Abby out of the room, and once the elevators opened and closed, the adults began to talk.

"So, House must've been a big fan of music, huh? Who would've thought," Veronica said. "Yeah, that's one theory. Maybe in the future, Radio New Vegas could be reconfigured." A thoughtful look crossed his face, before he shook it away. "So, Veronica, are you and Christine, well, um…" "If you're asking if we broke up, the answer is yes, probably for good. It wasn't the same as it was, and I think that I was just trying to hold on to one of the bright spots of my past. I just need to tie up one more loose end before I can get on with my life."

She directed her attention to Yes Man. "Yes Man, does House have anything on Helios One, like anything pertaining to projects they were working on?" "Absolutely! There's all kinds of information on Helios One! House had spies in a whole bunch of companies that fed him information. What would you like to know?" "Veronica," Mark said, a tinge of worry in his voice, "are you sure you want to go down this road? You might not like what you find."

"I know that, Mark, but this has been bugging me for years. Before I can move on, I need to know what all those people died for." Seeing that she needed this, Mark nodded. "Okay. Go ahead." "Yes Man," Veronica said, "I need information on any top-secret projects that they were working on, mainly anything to do with weaponry." "Searching records…records found. There was one top-secret project that was in its final stages before the bombs fell, codenamed "ARCHIMEDES.""

Yes Man's face disappeared from the screen, and multiple document papers appeared on the screen, overlaying one another. Yes Man then continued to speak. "It is an orbital weapons platform, split into two parts: ARCHIMEDES I and ARCHIMEDES II. The former is a plant defense system, while the latter can be used as a weapon anywhere using a special gun, designation "Euclid's C-Finder."" One of the documents was made prominent on the screen, showing a photo of what looked like a toy gun the size of a pistol, with a green body, a large red fin on top, and some kind of display on the back.

"I have a video of a test of ARCHIMEDES II. Would you like to view it?" "Please, Yes Man," Veronica said. The three of them gathered around the screen. The screen switched to a recording. The Helios One logo appeared, and a man began to speak. "Attention: What you are about to view is a top secret. Only those with Level II Security Clearance are allowed to view this. If you do not have said clearance, you're fired."

It then switched over to what looked like a few men in lab coats standing on an elevated metal platform that overlooked the desert. They all had goggles on, and one of them was holding the C-Finder. The man holding the C-Finder aimed it over the desert, and then pulled the trigger. The camera zoomed in momentarily on the display on the back of the gun, displaying mathematical symbols and coordinates.

The camera then went back over to the desert, where three beams of light seemingly descended from the heavens, rotating in a circle. The three lights then came together, and then disappeared. Seconds later, a large blue beam of energy came down, striking the ground where the three smaller lights had formed the circle earlier. Once the light dissipated and the dust cleared, there was a large, circular piece of scorched earth where the beam had struck. The recording then ended.

"Wow," Mark said. "No kidding," Amata replied. Veronica, however appeared to be deep in thought. "Yeah, it is impressive," she said, "but inherently useless. Yes Man, could you bring up the page marked, "Conclusions," please?" One of the pages was blown up on screen. Mark began to read it.

 _While the ARCHIMEDES II laser is a feat of engineering, there are severe limitations:_

 _It cannot be used without the C-Finder_

 _It is only usable outdoors_

 _Its blast radius is severely limited_

 _Requires a twenty-four (24) hour recharge between firings_

 _Conclusion: ARCHIMEDES I and II, while impressive, are ultimately useless as weaponry, and more suited towards light shows. It can be easily seen by enemies, who would have time to move out of the radius, as there is a five second delay from when it finds its firing coordinates to when it actually strikes the target. I doubt the executives will listen, but I feel that I must tell the truth._

 _Charles E. Johnson_

 _Lead Scientist_

Mark looked at Veronica, who was staring at the screen, an impassive look on her face. "Veronica, I know you're probably tired of hearing this, but are you okay?" he asked. She closed her eyes and chuckled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Honestly, this doesn't surprise me. The secret that all those people died for was nothing but glorified artillery that would have made the Brotherhood marginally more effective. I guess Elijah never found that C-Finder."

"Yes Man, is that weapons platform still active?" Mark asked. "Active, yes, but currently inoperable. The solar panels at Helios One are not aimed correctly for it to be usable." "Can you take control of the platform?" "One moment…no, I cannot. It can only be accessed at the Helios One facility, but I am aware of its current orbital position."

"Mark," Veronica said, "that weaponry that you fought that other alien ship with, are they still active?" "Yes, they are. Why?" "In the Codex it states that if a piece of tech can't be protected, then it needs to be destroyed. The C-Finder is missing, but eventually, someone will find it and figure out how to re-orient the mirrors at Helios One. Even though it isn't a very practical weapon, it is still dangerous."

Mark thought it over. "So, we use the weaponry to blast it out of the sky. Not a bad idea, and probably the best course of action here. Yes Man, connect me to the starship, but stay on-screen." "Yes, sir!" the AI said. The screen split in half once more, this time showing Commander Tercorien in the Captain's chair. He jumped a bit. "Jesus! You scared me, Captain. What can I do for you?" "Commander, I am transmitting the orbital position of a weapons platform, codenamed "ARCHIMEDES" to you. I need you to blow it out of the sky. Yes Man, relay the orbital position to the ship."

Elliott looked slightly off to his left, and pressed a few buttons. "Ok," he said, "I have received the coordinates and have the platform locked in. By your command, Captain." Mark looked at Veronica. "You want to do the honors, Veronica? It was your idea." She nodded and looked at the screen. "Fire," she said to Elliott. "Firing at designated target," the Commander said. There was silence as Elliott looked to his left again. "We have a confirmed hit. Target has been destroyed."

Veronica looked visibly relieved. "Thank you, Commander," Mark said. "No problem, Captain. Actually, now that I have you, did Miss Cassidy partake of that whiskey yet?" Did she like it?" Mark smiled. "Don't know yet, Commander, but I will let you know one way or the other." "Thank you, Captain. Was there anything else?" "No, that will be all, Commander." "Roger that. Over and out." The screen returned to only Yes Man's face.

"Well, I guess that's that, then," Veronica said. Amata came over and put a hand on Veronica's shoulder. "Did that give you the closure that you wanted?" she asked. Veronica nodded and smiled. "Yeah, it did. I got my answer. The future is bright, and I look forward to facing it with some great friends by my side. So, shall we go have lunch?" "Sounds good to me. Mark?" "Yeah, I am a bit hungry." It was then that Arcade came back through the doorway. "Hey, Arcade," Mark said, "we're going to have some lunch. Care to join us?" "Sounds like a plan," he said as they headed towards the elevator.

(20 minutes later)

The group was at the kitchen table, finishing up lunch. Arcade had mostly talked about what he found out about House's life-extending machines, Mark talked about the music and the info on Helios One they had found, and, as promised, Amata talked up Elliott to Cass, who was thoroughly enjoying the bottle of whiskey that the Commander had given her. It was at this point that Abby noticed that someone was missing.

"Auntie Ronnie, where is Miss Christine?" The glass of water that Veronica was about to drink from froze in mid-air, and the rest of the table went silent. She put the glass back down and looked at Abby. "Well, sweetheart, you see, Miss Christine broke your dad's rules, and she learned that when you break rules, there are consequences. So, you won't be seeing her around here for a while." 'Or ever again,' she thought.

"Oh. How long will she be gone for?" the young girl asked. "Abby," Amata said, saving Veronica from answering, "why don't you go with ED-E into your room and practice writing your letters. I'll come check on you in a bit, and if you do a good job, you'll get a treat, ok?" "Ok, mommy," she said as she jumped off her chair and skipped out of the room, ED-E following obediently behind her.

Once Abby's bedroom door opened and closed, Mark spoke. "Ok, so I gathered some information from Yes Man concerning the future of Vegas and the Mojave as a whole, as well as the finances of the Strip. We'll start with the money. In the past, I got paid for whatever House needed done, and you guys got a cut of it. Well, from now on, if you need any money, just ask Yes Man, and he'll get you the amount that you need."

"Are ya serious, Mark?" Cass asked. "I have no reason to lie, Cass. Last year, House spent over 800,000 caps to have people look through ruins to find the Platinum Chip, and that barely made a dent in what he has collected from the casinos over the years. So, if you guys want any armor, weapons, ammo, go nuts. Hell, if you want to go over to Gomorrah and get shit-faced and hire a few hookers, go ahead. It's none of my business."

"That is extremely generous of you, Mark," Arcade said. "Think nothing of it, Arcade. You guys are all my friends, you're all helping me make the Mojave a better place to live, so you all deserve the best protection that money can buy. And this goes without saying, but this all stays between us."

"Uh, Mark," Amata said, glancing over at Veronica, "are you at all concerned about a certain someone informing a certain group about the change in circumstances?" Veronica rolled her eyes. "Amata, you can just say it. You're wondering if Christine will tell the Brotherhood that House is dead." "Uh, yeah," Amata replied sheepishly.

"If she still cares about me like she claims," Veronica said, "she won't, but even if she does, it won't matter. Hell, telling them about the ship won't matter. They don't have the numbers to assault the Strip, and they don't have any vertibirds at their disposal, so there is no chance of any aerial assault. In addition, while power armor is strong, the Securitron's weaponry is more than enough to defeat it. It would be similar to what happened at Helios One. We can keep throwing Securitrons at them, like the NCR kept throwing soldiers at them, and they'll become overwhelmed fairly quickly. And we have the ship as a safehouse if things go sideways."

"Thank you for that insight, Veronica. We will now move on to the future of Vegas and the Mojave." He sat back in his chair. "Before Amata and I left Goodsprings, there were three major factions vying for the lion's share of power: House, the NCR, and the Legion. Then you had Benny, who was trying to usurp House, making him a wild card of sorts in all of this."

"When I killed Benny, I took his place as the wild card. Now, with House out of the picture, I have taken his place, although to the outside world, House is still alive. Now, it is no secret that the NCR wants to annex the Strip, in large part to the taxes they would collect on the revenue. As for the Legion, House theorizes that Caesar wants to make Vegas the crown jewel of his empire. His Rome, if you will."

"His what now?" Cass asked. Boone also appeared to be unsure, although it was hard to tell with him. "Arcade, you wanna field that one?" "Uh, sure. This isn't common knowledge, but Caesar was once a member of the Followers, before my time. The Legion is actually based on the ancient Roman empire, which spanned a vast amount of continental Europe, and lasted for a few hundred years. One of its most influential rulers was Julius Caesar, which is where our Caesar likely took his name from. Rome, which is, or was in Italy, was the center of the empire."

"Well said, Arcade. Now, what I want, similar to what House wanted, is to remain independent. I would sooner burn Vegas to the ground before I would allow Caesar to get his mitts on it, so our only issue is how we deal with the NCR after the war is over. Like I said yesterday, I am not a dictator, so I will listen to you guys' thoughts on that issue, so please speak freely."

Surprisingly, Boone was the first to speak. "I say we stay independent. I may have ties to the NCR, but they're too bureaucratic and corrupt for their own good." "I agree with Boone," Cass said. "They didn't lift a finger ta help find who destroyed ma caravan. Plus, we got a good thing goin' here, so why ruin it?" Veronica spoke next. "I'm with you, Mark. You point to a target, and I'll punch it with gusto."

"Good to know, Veronica," Mark said. "Arcade?" "Well, actions speak louder than words, and while all the NCR does is talk, you have proven to be a man of action, so I believe independence is the best route here." Mark then looked at Amata. "Mark, I've already told you that I will always support your decisions, and this is no different." Mark leaned over and gave her a kiss. "Thank you, babe. So, it appears that we're all in agreement. Vegas remains as an independent state. Now, House, and Yes Man, interestingly enough, have plans to deal with a few other factions in the Mojave."

"House wanted me to deal with the Brotherhood, the Boomers at Nellis Air Force Base to the northeast, and the Omertas here on the Strip. I've already dealt with the Omertas, and the situation with the Brotherhood is complicated, so that's on the back burner for now." "Mark," Arcade said concernedly, "are you aware of the reputation of the Boomers?"

"I am, Arcade. They specialize in heavy artillery and bomb the hell out of anyone who gets anywhere close to Nellis. House wanted either their leaders neutralized so they won't be a threat, or their weapons pointed at his targets. That type of help could be very useful against the Legion, so I'm favoring the second option." "So how do you propose getting to the base? Hell, even the Brotherhood won't go near there…well, anymore," Veronica said. "Eh, we'll figure something out."

"So, Yes Man added a couple of other factions that I should deal with, based on what Benny had said in the past. One is the White Glove Society, who run the Ultra-Luxe. Apparently, it is supposed to be a real high-class place, but I guess Benny once mentioned something about it being creepy, and not wanting to go in the basement. Which means, of course, that I'm going to have to end up going in the basement. I doubt that there's anything too bad down there, but knowing my luck, they'll be cannibals or something."

He chuckled and then moved on. "Finally, there's the Great Khans." Boone grunted. "Something you wish to share, Boone?" Mark asked. "Not really," he replied. "Okay. Other than where they live, Red Rock Canyon, there was really no information on them. Can anyone fill me in?"

"I believe that I can, Mark," Arcade said. "Rumor has it that they originated out of Vault 15, which is somewhere in the NCR. They have a warrior-like culture, and they were one of the tribes that lived in the area until House pushed them out. They relocated to Bitter Springs, but there was an…incident…there involving the NCR, and then relocated to Red Rock Canyon. The Followers taught them to make their own medicine, but they used that knowledge to produce chems instead. They have since become the biggest distributors of drugs in the Mojave. They have been pushed around a lot in their history."

Mark looked thoughtful. "So, we're dealing with a group of highly-organized raiders who likely aren't fond of House or the NCR. I'll need to tread carefully here, as they might align with Caesar to get back at them. Hopefully that Jessup guy is still alive." "Who?" Veronica asked. "He's a Khan whose life I saved. He said something about Khans always repaying their debts, so hopefully I can use that to talk to their leader," Mark replied.

Mark's voice then took on a slightly darkened tone. "One last thing. We are at war, people. Right now, us and the NCR want the same thing: the destruction of the Legion. When that happens, I will likely come out into the open with House's death. But, with the NCR being as greedy as they are, might make a move to take Vegas by force. With Oliver at the helm of the military, that is a very real possibility."

"The only thing that's stopped them from trying already is that the Legion is keeping them occupied. I have no doubts, however, that they are keeping an eye on Vegas. So, we need to keep an eye on them as well, which is why I bugged Colonel Hsu's office, among other places." "How were you able to manage that?" Veronica asked. Mark grinned. "Sleight of hand, my dear Veronica. While everyone's looking at your right hand, your left hand is doing something else."

"Wait," Veronica said, "you said "among other places. Where else have you bugged?" "I have bugged Alice McLafferty's office, the main building and bar at the Mojave Outpost, and the security office and Elder's office at Hidden Valley." "Wait, Hidden Valley? Mark, you do recall that there is a radio interference setup there, right? That would effectively nullify your bugs."

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong, Veronica. The bugs, while originally Earth technology, have been augmented by alien technology, which, given its advanced state, easily beats any earthly attempts to block the signals." "Ok, well, what if they're discovered?" Veronica asked. "They won't be," Mark said. "They're no bigger than my fingernail, and they blend in to whatever surface they're stuck to, so you'd have to get up _really_ close to notice it was there."

"The transmissions are being sent to the ship, recorded and analyzed, and a report is prepared for me of anything that I should know. Commander Tercorien is to notify me if anything is heard that needs my urgent attention." Arcade looked a bit pensive. "This all sounds like a large invasion of privacy," he said. "I understand, Arcade," Mark said, "but like I said, we're at war. The NCR may be our friend today, but our enemy tomorrow." "Mark's right, Arcade," Boone said. "In times of war, you use every tool at your disposal."

Boone then looked at Mark. "Is there any chance of the transmissions being intercepted?" "None whatsoever, Boone. It is on an alien frequency that radios on earth can't detect. I can't even access it from my pip-boy. That is by design, done as a safety precaution." "Well, have ya heard anything interesting?" Cass asked. "Nothing interesting from the Brotherhood. The NCR, however, is a different story. Apparently, they have a Legion Centurion in custody, which from what I've picked up, is rare."

"You can say that again," Boone said. "Legion soldiers usually slit their own throats if they're about to be captured, so capturing one of them, a Centurion, no less, is a big deal. They get anything out of him?" "No, not yet. They have Lieutenant Carrie Boyd interrogating him, but she isn't having any luck. She wants to beat him, but I guess that that's against regulation."

Mark then looked around the room. "Anyone else have anything they want to discuss?" No one responded. "Ok then. If anything urgent comes up, I'll let you guys know. Other than that, we're done here. Enjoy the rest of your day."

(2 hours later, Hidden Valley)

Christine stood in the antechamber of the Hidden Valley Bunker, pondering her recent life choices. She had been somewhat thinking about them on her way here, but she did need to pay attention to any threats. Now that she was here, however, she had time to think. She knew that Veronica could be vindictive on occasion, but what she had just done took vindictive to a whole new level. Christine really wanted to blame Mark for the change in Veronica that caused her ex-girlfriend to act that way, but she knew in her heart of hearts that this situation was her own fault.

Now, with nowhere else to go, she had come back to the bunker that she had been born and raised in. She did need to report the success of her mission, anyway. Sighing, she approached the intercom and pressed the button. "This is Scribe Christine Royce, registration Charlie November dash Four Zero One Foxtrot (CN-401F) requesting entrance, over."

There was silence for a moment. "Please hold," a man's voice said over the intercom. A minute later, he spoke again. "Ok, that checks out." The door then slid open. "Welcome home, Scribe Royce." Christine sighed, and then began her descent down the stairs, the door closing behind her.

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. The alien ship was visited, an old relationship died, a new one may have formed, there were some interesting discoveries, things were blown up, and plans for the future of the Mojave have been laid out. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.**


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